


Programmed that Way

by Mixara



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, I am sorry in advance, I'm serious about that graphic depictions of violence thing, Minor mentions of suicide, Off-screen Relationship(s), Other, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is Nonbinary, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, a family and a boo all in one, a whole lot of internal screaming, and also very spacey, and angsty worn out sans, average joe with a shitty life meets some swell monsters, best friggin besties, but you can imagine them however you like, expect a lot of yelling, extraordinary things can come from some highly ordinary people, hard life angst and an eventual character growth, jobs suck man, minor horror themes that i am just now realizing, patient romancing in a doctor's office, reader has a highly generic appearance, reader is an actual space cadet adult acting like a child, some mild ptsd, some minor morality questioning, some real life issues from an average human being, soul searching on a legit level, this is a tag, with literally fuck all social skills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 142,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixara/pseuds/Mixara
Summary: It's literally been two years since you got your head out of your ass and started acting like an adult. One of those two years, monsters reappeared on the surface after the barrier on Mt. Ebott broke. This is a story of how you suck at adapting to social situations, fail at creating a proper environment for yourself, and continue to be an absolute social nightmare in the face of all adversity. This is also a story of how you overcome all that, and find a family waiting for you on the other end of it all.Government ruling the job market via soul value, and the occasional stab at your bad art of a plant. Welcome to adult life in a literal hell, kiddo. Strap yourself in. It's gonna get hella bumpy.





	1. What's the News, Doc?

**Author's Note:**

> Whoooo first chapter! Look at me. Doin' the thing. Look at YOU, doin' the thing. Yeah. We're doin' the thing. Now imma eat dis sandwhich while you read. Have fun out there!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think everyone can agree that appointments are nerve-wracking.

"It's a little like determination, but... not, exactly?" there was a thoughtfulness to his tone, he was trying to grab at something in his head that could properly describe the oddly hued thing hovering before you. "it attaches easily to things. People, places, just-" here he waves one bony hand in a vague gesture,"-stuff. It clings to stuff. It's a self-preserving thing. which your soul is just, chalk full of. You aren't above abandoning everything you care about to make sure you live through it all without expelling too much effort. It's not conniving..."

It feels more like he's talking to himself now. There's nothing new coming from his rambling. You've kind of heard it all before. From other people. Roommates or family or something. You kick your feet idly on the stool beneath you. You were at a soul evaluation consultation in Hedgeworth Clinic, located downtown. It was something all humans were required to go through, now. Stupid as it was, no company was willing to hire any human who hadn't gotten one within the last year or so. Not that soul value changes, they just want to make sure you're living up to their expected potential of you. Your appointment started at 3:30, and you made sure to be prompt for once! You even put on the good clothes for this! (Well, the least broken or ugly shorts and shirt you could find in the hamper this morning, anyway.) The two doctor, scientist, skeleton and ghoul people had your heart floating above an examination table, and had been deliberating for at least an hour now. It's getting kind of dull sitting around here. You were excited and anxious at first, but now that it's gotten to be this complicated, you're beginning to wonder if "human traits for a soul" was an actual thing or if these weirdos made it up to give themselves a place in the job market. With how hard it was to accommodate the growing population in this town, you didn't doubt it.  
You stifle a yawn. They've gone into semantics, and have both begun mumbling to themselves. If this was going to take forever, you wondered if they'd at least let you snag a coffee or a snack while you waited for them to decide what trait they were sure your soul value could be. Your stomach grumbled lightly at the thought of a tuna sandwich and some soda. God damn, did that sound good. Food. Food in general sounded good. Wonder what was still in the fridge? Maybe some crackers and cheese too, or those pizza roles in the freezer. Put on some cartoons or videos on the internet, chow down and nap it out. Yeah, that sounded really nice...

"...what are you talking about?? ALL humans are adaptable as a species. it's not exactly a soul trait, pal." the tonal language changed. That caught your attention. "and I JUST told you it wasn't determination. this kid doesn't have the drive for that. it's something... well, something else!" the shorter of the two scientists, one with a slightly over-sized white lab coat, with a blue sweatshirt underneath, was practically shouting. This guy was pretty intimidating for a monster resembling a small, albeit a little thick, human skeleton.

"And I'm telling you that it couldn't be anything else. We've run the tests. We've done the analysis." The taller one was darkly clad. Black everything except the labcoat. You think you saw a white turtleneck peeking out over the black shirt he wore. Or was that a sweater too? Was it cold in here? Do monsters get cold easily? Your thoughts drifted again.

"So their heart isn't RED so it ISN'T determination. Like is just said." shorty over there was getting a little testy. Talk about unprofessional behavior.

" How about we just ask the human what they think? Perhaps we could use another perspective **.** " The ghoulish man motioned toward you with one hovering hand, the smaller, obviously heated skeleton glancing your way coldly.

"what, so they can give themselves something idiotic like, 'valor'? there's a reason we don't ask them, Gaster. there's a reason we don't leave it up to them. we're the ones who can see their souls for what they are. not them."

"And what a wonderful job you're doing." You mumble, feeling the agitation that comes with hunger. The ghoulish looking scientist, (Gaster, you assume), throws an icy glare your way. Something drops in your stomach. Fear was one word. Anxiety and apprehension were two other ones. These words make people like you do very, very stupid things. Like open your mouth to remedy your careless little outburst, with even MORE careless outbursts. "W-we could just, you know, um do the, um, thing where I come back and like, you can evaluate me a second time? Re-evaluate! That, we can do that? If you're okay with it? I know I'm the last appointment today, and it's close to that time, I have a, ah, cat to feed at home and stuff, so..." you rub your arm nervously. There was a cold feeling at the back of your skull, radiating further upward, the icy feeling dropping and slowly spreading through your legs and feet. God this sucks.  
' _I should have just shut up. God, I'm being rude, don't talk anymore, I don't even have a goddamn cat, why am I lying?? Jesus, don't talk don't talkdon'ttalk..._ '

"We could break for something to eat, if that's your query." The taller spoke slowly, a thoughtful hum coming from him after a moment. "Yes. I think we could do with a break. Seeing as how this is obviously going nowhere."

"We've done at least a hundred humans today, it's a wonder I haven't bashed my skull in." The shorter skeletal scientist rubs his skull, dragging bony fingers down to give a small yank at one of the rims of the sockets. Ugh... that's kind of gross. "I'm going to Grillby's. Grab a burger, chew this one over. I'll be back in ten." He begins walking before anyone can stop him, and Gaster (you assume, from what you've hard), calls out before he's out the door.

"One moment, Sans. Hand me the file again, before you leave. I want to review it once more, see if we missed something there."

"It's on the table near the filing cabinet, there. I've got a copy on me, so don't bother corralling me into that shitty little office of yours again." With a flash and crackle of blue, he's out of sight. Nothing to signify he was standing there, nothing giving away where he'd gone.

' _monsters are... weird_.' you think to yourself. ' _But cool. that was kind of awesome. If I had that, i could like, teleport everywhere and never have to pay for gas in a car or an uber ride or a plane ticket or a train- no, wait. trains are cool. nice and calming, going through the countryside. Yeah. trains i'll do. not planes. too high, too loud. kind of scary. what if you got sucked into space and-_ '  
There was a sound of someone clearing their throat. You blink, looking up. Dazing out was a bad habit. One thought leading into the next like a tireless string braiding itself further and further into madness. You cast your eyes everywhere else but his face. Odd, grey, glowing orbs just hovering in that empty, ghoulish skull of his. Not being racist here, but seeing a monster like him for the first time was... unnerving, to say the least. Tall as fuck and looking like he'd scalp you for science. Scalp you with a scalpel. For science-y scalp stuff.

"If you're ready to head on out, there's a snack machine lobby you can take a look at. And coffee in the waiting area. Fair warning, you humans like your coffee with copious amounts of sugar. And they're are none left in there. So, do what you will for food. But come immediately back here at half past, or we'll end the consultation." He said sternly.

"Uh, yeah. Sure thing. And don't mind the coffee thing. I like my coffee like I like my nights." You paused, waiting, hoping. He quirked an eyebrow (well, browbone) at you. You give a small, nervous smile. "Dark, and impossible to sleep through." Another pause for effect. You both stayed in the same position. He was clearly unamused. "Heh. Hah. Well, just gunna, get something from the lobby. I'll uh, eat in the waiting room. Just gunna..." you point to the door as you exit, full blown awkwardness in clear display for this guy to see. Before you're even completely down the hall, you already telling yourself to go lie in a hole somewhere and pray to whatever god out there to erase your very existence from this timeline.

* * *

 

The bar is alight with the voices of many familiar faces and soft, jazzy music. It was like any other night in the dimly lit diner. Everything as calm and relaxed as per usual. The only difference being, he couldn't quite enjoy the languid atmosphere tonight. Three stacks of incredibly useless information sat in front of him on the bar, bits of french fries clinging to the edges of one. Taking another dreaded look at the labeled folders, he felt himself groan tiredly to himself. Previous addresses, job histories, family names and addresses, their job histories, places of birth, medical records. All of this was bullshit. Just another way the companies wanted to wean out the lesser valued souls and keep the ones that benefited the company the most. None of this was what he wanted to do with his life on the surface. This job felt like sifting through the healthier lambs for the slaughter. The plumper ones being offered the nicer spot on the plate, and the others given like scraps to the awaiting maw of a wolf. It was all sickening. Ridiculous. He wanted to quit, to call it all off and just go back to doing something simpler. Something far less morally taxing on him. Like... taking a nap on a sentry station. Selling hotdogs. God, anything but this. Anything at all, but this.

"And what might that be?" the familiar hiss and crackle of Grillby's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"my resignation letter." Sans muttered without missing a beat. He held his skull in his hands, elbows widely set on the bar, face almost touching the paper stacks.

"Looks a little long for a resignation. You need that many reasons to go?" there was humor in his voice.

"believe you me, buddy, there's more than just this if we're really talking about reasons here." He couldn't offer up anything else in response. He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted a better solution. "sorting out human souls like rare cuts of meat to slap on a grill really makes you question the quality of one's work, y'know?"

Grillby moved a stool to sit in front of his exhausted friend, setting down a small bottle of ketchup and leaning forward, quietly taking him in. "...there is nothing I can tell you that I haven't already said once before." sans reached for the bottle, sighing with a nod. "Coming back up to the surface may have been our dream, but to them, to the humans, it felt more like a nightmare. Jobs are scarce, and compassion during times like this are even scarcer."

It was rare sans got to hear Grillby talk so extensively to him. Their conversations were normally one sided, and lasted a few sentences before Grillby wandered off to help another customer. He could tell he was radiating self-pity. He knew he looked pathetic. Sounded pathetic. But goddamn it, he didn't care at this point. Let him feel it. Let him look pathetic. Let him be petulant and bitter for a while. He had ten minutes. Ten whole minutes to do so. And he wasn't about to let it be taken from him, this chance to let it loose.

"I know, pal. believe me. I know. doesn't make this horse-pill of a job any easier to swallow. Paps needs a decent home to live in, we need food and light and water, and no one will hire him and... god. was this really what we were fighting for, all that time?" He whispered the last bit, rubbing his face once more. Silence hung in the air for a long moment, before Grillby stood back up, placed one hand on the skeleton's shoulder, and said,

"There are no happily ever after's in reality. Just the understanding that problems don't disappear. They just become better problems we can more easily manage." then, after a quick squeeze to his shoulder, he walked away, towards a small group of humans who just sat down at the far end of the bar.

He knew that. Sans knew all of that. It didn't help. None of it did. It all ate him alive inside. Dripping away, corroding his conscience like acid. None of this was fair. None of this was right. Humans or not, monsters or not, it was wrong to judge the worth of a soul this way. Wrong to use it like a tool and wring it dry for all it's worth for profit. This, all of this was a mistake. If he had known this was what he would be doing, he would never have accepted that job offer so quickly. But jobs were so hard to find now, and he and Paps were so hungry after their money seemed to disappear steadily over the last year. What other solution could there possibly be, now? There was nothing else... Nothing.

He cast a tired eye back down at the files. The name sticking out alongside the headshot. Your eyes stared back out at him. Brown, average, seemingly vacant. Average features. Short hair. medium skin tone. Nothing about you stood out. Another face in a crowd of people on a perpetual conveyor belt to hell. The list of addresses you lived at covered nearly the entire bottom half of the page. Your job history was eclectic and scattered. No number for parental or sibling contacts. No higher education beyond high school. By all intents and purposes, you were disposable to society.  
"looks like you bounced around a lot, kid." he murmured to himself, plucking the packet from the file. "Huh. A shelter too. How's a kid like you wind up in a town like this, I wonder.." curiosity had him opening the third file, the one he never bothered to look through after the first month working at the clinic. 'Personal Comments', it read. Opening it revealed your messy handwriting, parts of it scribbled out, a few crossed out or left blank. Questions about family, friends, goals, hobbies. Useless things, really. None of it mattered in the long run.  
"hobbies include comedy, collecting clocks and... horror movies? c'mon kid, that ain't a hobby." None of this was helpful. Useless topics about life and love. A few of those crossed out as, deemed irrelevant to you as well. "What the hell? What image would you use to best describe your personality? Is this SERIOUSLY what we're charging people for? Paperwork about images and 'how do you feel today' bullshit on paper and at a life changing soul sorting center?" Sans almost set the paper back in the file, but stopped when he saw the picture you drew there. You didn't describe it, you drew it. And could not, for the life of him, figure out what the hell it was. He squinted his sockets at it. Hard. "Is that a plant?" he almost laughed, it was so uncharacteristically badly drawn, he had to take a second to compose himself. "holy stars, that's bad." It looked pathetic, whatever it was.  
A loud beeping tone from the pocket of his white coat signaled the end of the break. With a resigned sigh, he stacked the files, plopped a couple of bills on the counter, and flickered out of sight.

* * *

  
These vending machines were garbage! Where the hell were the bags of chips?? The good junky-carby stuff? What the hell were these candy drops and health bars? Was this the vending machine of the damned? The self-conscious damned?!  
"You've got to be kidding me." you groaned. There was a steaming styrofoam cup of coffee in your left hand, and an unused dollar bill in your right. In this moment, the only options you had were a 2-pack of granola bars and a sad looking bag of pretzels. You weren't ecstatic about your choices, but the granola bars were at least better than an airy bag of salty sadness. You shove the bill in, punch in the correlating numbers, and wait with resigned apathy for the mediocre snack to fall. Grabbing it from the machine, you make your way back to the waiting room, and plop down in a seat, a few bites already taken from the bars along the way.  
"Eugh.." you grimace. "Maple brown sugar."

* * *

  
Bright lights buzzed overhead, the room humming faintly with the sound of a heating unit going somewhere in the building. You were back on the stool, kicking your feet and checking your email for the tenth time in a row. Nothing new there. No new messages either. It was just getting kind of dull sitting there watching some tall ghoul mutter to himself for a half hour. It amazed you that anyone could keep going back and forth as long as he did.  
Gaster paced the floor, documents in hand, downing his third cup of black coffee. Black shoes clicked on the linoleum in a steady pace. There was probably a steady growing rut in that spot, now. Two pairs of uncertain and equally exasperated eyes followed his movements. It's been another hour an a half, and they haven't figured out what the quality of your soul was. There was apparently an extensive database for these kinds of things. Souls they reviewed and cataloged, meanings and connections of color and quality, differing strengths and weaknesses, all that jazz. You weren't all that jazzed to be an anomaly, however. Part of you wished you had something a lot easier to determine. Because this was just getting ridiculous.

"I don't understand." Great. Here comes the crazed muttering again."We've seen nearly the same qualities in all the souls before this one. I don't understand why it can't be placed."

"How about instead of yammering on to yourself, we could, I dunno, ask the human a few questions to settle this?" the skeleton shrugged from his seat on the swivel chair. "It couldn't hurt at this point." Gaster ignored him. "c'mon, doc, i'm actually willing to listen to your proposal from before. let's ask the kid a question."

He kept pacing, silent now. How many more minutes was that? Your ass was falling asleep. You're about to get up and shift positions, when all at once he came to a stop. "What did the file say about their parents, again? Sans?"

"there's a lot that was said. which section are you referring to."

"The personal comments section, read it-read it out to me again. Go on." Gaster had taken a breath and motioned tiredly with his arm. "Once more. Maybe I missed something."

"Orrrr, and, hear me out, we could go with your ORIGINAL idea, and you could ask THEM what they wrote. Or, hey! how about we ask them questions instead?" sans replied testily. Everyone was getting aggravated.

"OR, and hear ME out, you could start from square one and pretend you have no basic assumptions about color or quality or whatever soul funny business you've been logging up in that cranium of yours?" Came your snarky reply. You were now draped across the stool, stomach on the seat, staring at a rip in your shorts for the past few minutes or so. "Then maybe we'd actually GET somewhere with you two numbskulls."

"Just read me the file." he insists.

"Just ask them a question!" sans persists.

"Just start from the beginning!" you resist.

"File, sans!"

"ask a damn question, Gaster!"

"Are you two even listening to me?!"

"We aren't getting anywhere if you don't cooperate!"

"We weren't getting anywhere from the beginning with your stubborn attitude!"

"So I'm just shouting at my shorts now, is that right? Because it's the only thing that will listen to what I'm saying??"

"Fine! If you're so inclined to make decisions, then YOU ask the human a question." Gaster snapped.

"fine! at least I'll be able to get us somewhere!" sans retorted, immediately turning to you. "what was that picture you drew in the comment section?"

"Hello shorts! I just farted!" you yell, with the worst possible timing.

There was a very long, highly uncertain silence that followed after that. Every cell in your body felt like it was heating up with embarrassment. What a time they picked to finally hear you. You look up, catching their mortified and confused looks. Sans even dared to glance at your butt. With the mortification never cease?

"I... oh SURE. NOW you listen to me! Right when I'm saying the most unimportant garbage of my life!" Nothing was said for a few beats. You had no way of coming back from this.

"That's kind of..."

"And you didn't think to excuse yourself?"

"I DIDN'T ACTUALLY DO IT!" you scream back.

* * *

  
Another half hour, and several reassurances later, you're sitting cross legged on the floor, explaining your particularly bad drawing of a plant on the questionnaire. Gaster has taken to sitting in the swivel chair sans previously occupied, while the short skeleton plopped in front of you on the cold linoleum, paper set between the two of you.

"so that's a dandelion, then?" he sounded skeptical. You decided you were offended by that tone.

"I'm not all that great at remembering exactly what they look like, but yeah. That's a dandelion."

He's staring at the image for a third time, brow bone lowering with an unspoken question or criticism. You don't know which. And you don't do great with criticism, so you begin speaking to fill the momentary silence.  
"I drew a dandelion because people see them as weeds. They pass by them everyday, and think of them kind of like a parasite to the lawn or something. Sucking up nutrients that it shouldn't take and whatnot. If a kid passes by, they just see a flower, and pick it and hand it to their mom or dad, and they go, 'ew don't pick weeds that's gross blah blah'. But they have practically zero issues when the dandelion turns all fuzzy and stuff and the kids blow on it and spread those weed seeds into the wild to procreate again." you're staring at the ceiling, leaning back on your hands. You don't know where you're going with this.

Gaster is the first to speak up. "That doesn't explain anything. You think of yourself as a weed that people find disgusting?"

"Gas, shush." sans waves him off. He grumbles in response.

"No, I mean... people judge what they see. They don't see me as anything but a parasite, and think it will be easy to get rid of me. That once you pluck the flower, it's instant death. But if you blow on the seeds, it just regrows somewhere else. So it's NOT easy to be rid of me. I don't die that easily. I'm not pretty, like all other flowers, but I'm more... I dunno, resilient, I guess? No matter where I go, I grow. Does that make sense?" the look on their faces says, no. They do not, in fact, understand. You furrow your brow in agitation and try again. Speaking is a little hard to do for you right now. "Okay so it was an abstract concept at the time. But it basically means no matter my average appearance, I have highly adaptable tendencies, and can't be killed off so easily by something as simple as not being accepted or valued. Is that a little clearer?"

" all humans need social acceptance and attention. that's highly unrealistic. no one actually thinks like that." sans snorted.

"Yeah and so is porn. But you don't see anyone questioning THAT one, now do you, bone boy?" that little nickname earns you a glare. You offer one in kind.

Gaster, however, seems to approve, nodding his head slowly, already deep in thought. Sans just goes back to looking at the drawing. "It's... uh." a bony hand moves in a circular motion at his side. "it's... no i can't even pretend to know what to say about this. i'm burned out. what do you got, doc?"

No answer. The ghoulish man stood from his seat, a terrifying smile nearly splitting his face, eye sockets warping in an unsettling way. Grey eyes whip to your soul, still hovering before you on an empty examination table, maroon glow still dim and softly pulsing.

"Sans." he says, almost with glee. "what do dandelion seeds do."

"uuuuh. they, float?" he glared at him stupidly. "what the heck does that kind of question have to do with any of this?" he was clearly agitated and completely fed up with this appointment. He wanted it over with already.  
"No. Not float." He turned again, grey lights practically beaming with realization. "They cling."

"to what, clothes? people? things? i mean i guess that's how they get around, but i don't actually thing they-" sudden realization dawned in those pinprick lights, and sans rose from the floor as well. "no way. if it was that obvious, i'm going to walk out of this room right now, and sleep through tomorrow." he sounded angry, but his features spoke of relief.

"Red is associated with determination. Purple, perseverance. What do those two, combined, become?" hovering hands reached for the soul, handling it carefully as the manically smiling scientist cataloged the mystery color into his notes. "It constantly fluctuates, but what does it become, sans?"

"...Tenacity." he almost slapped his skull. "the multiple addresses should have tipped us off. the kid says esteem from others doesn't matter, but clings to specific things or places or items. it makes the most logical sense. the issue is, this is the first Tenacity soul we've encountered, and we have literally no way of determining it's worth in the job market. or any market for that matter."  
Market? Like, a buying market? You didn't... really like the way that whole thing made you feel inside. Sans didn't notice, and continued,  
"and the soul itself is dimmer than anything else we've seen as well. i'm not saying we should investigate, but i'd rather have answers before we have yet another suited asshole banging on our front door again."

Gaster's face fell just a bit, before being replaced with a look you couldn't place. "Further research might need to be done on this one, then."

Oh no. Oh HELL no. You were NOT going through this song and dance again. Fuck that, fuck them, fuck this, fuck you. Better Saturdays could be spent sitting in front of drying paint. One long and painful seven hours was enough. All of this was enough. You'd have to explain it to the insurance company, why you took so long at this-

"I will offer you a deal, human." white coat swaying slightly, he slowly hands you back your soul, watching it wink out of existence as it finds it's home back in your body. "If you will agree to some minor experimentation with your soul for the advancement of human soul research, I am sure the company will be willing to pay you for your time and cover a small portion of your expenses from this consultation." his voice was low, smooth. It felt like something black and slithering moving along your spine when he spoke. It made you uneasy, but the proposition of a cushion on your expenses, plus additional pay for your troubles did seem like a pretty nice deal.

"what's the catch, hombre." you say, squinting your eyes at him. "Sounds a little too convenient if you ask me."

"The catch being, you will be under our care over the course of these experiments, and you will need to do as we say, no questions asked, if you want your soul to remain unharmed."  
"the, ah, equipment is fairly new. and we've only tested it once or twice." sans pitched in, scratching the back of his skull. "that's pretty dangerous, actually. we could actually get sued if anything happened, you know." the last bit was addressed to his darkly clad colleague.

"I am well aware of that, sans. Which is why I am prepared to offer up recompense for it, provided this human sign a waiver before we begin."

A waiver?? Well. That didn't sound promising. "What's the recompense? Money for suffrage or something?"

"If that is what you wish, then yes. We will also cover any other possible outcomes in the contracts, should you agree." one hovering white hand, devoid of a palm, was open in front of you. "So. Do we have a deal? You allow a few experiments, over the course of let's say, two months, in exchange for pay and partial coverage of today's expenses?" that wolfish grin and those half-lidded, smug looking eyes told you there was something more there. It was unnerving. Really, really unnerving. A quick glance to the side revealed the same apprehension on the smaller of the two's skull. White lights fixed on your face. You could slice this tension with a knife, it was so palpable.  
The overhead lights buzzed. The heating unit rumbled. Somewhere on the other side of the window in the corner, a dog barked. Were you sweating? You think you were sweating. Why was this guy so goddamn CLOSE. Think, _____, think! _Uh! Uuuuuh!_ Just open your mouth! Say something! Oh man, I think I'm gunna fear fart. Shit.

"Uh... can I, have time to think about it?" You squeaked out. This was the only way you could get out of here without too many repercussions.

A flash of something crossed Gaster's face, but it was to quick for you to register. "But of course. Allow me to give you my office number, should you decide upon something before the clinic closes tonight."

A little white card materialized in front of you, Bold black print, elegant and neat on display. Two contacts were printed on the very bottom left of it. One office number, and one personal number. Why a scientist doctor guy would put his own personal number on a card is beyond you. Maybe it was a personal business phone? Is that a thing doctor scientists do? Soul-scientist doctor guys? Maybe people contact him if they have a heart problem. Uh, soul problem. Would that be called a heart-to-heart? Or would it be more like-

"you can reach either of us at the office number." sans' voice cut through your rambling thoughts. "we'll both be here by eight tomorrow morning if you have questions." that sounded rehearsed, almost. He was already putting away the files, shrugging off his coat and rubbing tiredly at his face. He was scribbling something on another card, and tucked it into a folder, handing it off to you before crossing the room to pick up the remaining papers on a counter near the back wall. "c'mon, Gas. consultation is over. we've got paperwork and they've been kept long enough."

"Indeed." Gaster straightened. You rose from the floor, dusting off your backside, and grabbing your sweater off the stool. "Do call us if you have any questions or come to a decision." He bowed slightly."Have a pleasant rest of your evening."

You mimic the slight bow, in an awkward mirroring of social necessity, then promptly make your way out of the stuffy white examination room. Bursting open the front door of the building, you breathe in the early spring air, the sounds of crickets meeting your ears. Ten full seconds later, you sigh, and make your way down the street back toward your apartment, folder in hand. It was manila, with a few papers sticking out of the end of it where it shifted. Opening it to peek inside, you see the small card tucked into a slot on the left side, with the official stamp logo of the Hedgeworth Clinic on it, and two signatures. In the center of the small, official looking card, bold black handwriting read, "Tenacity". It wasn't one you heard before. Or even one you could say you were familiar with. You just hoped it helped you land a better job in the future, with how long it took to discern it. Hell, you hoped you got something out of that nightmarishly long winded examination from hell. It was like, a circle of hell on it's own. Sitting in one spot while people argued about your value, and no one listened to you at all. Or... something like that. One thing was for sure, though. This was one experience you were absolutely sure you were never going to forget.

* * *

  
You arrive a few minutes later at your door, fishing your keys from your pocket before you notice it. The yellow eviction notice sticking out from underneath your door. Shit. You begin to panic, mind racing.  
' _I thought I paid the two months I owed? I'm almost sure I did! Did it not go through? Did they just take my money? What am I supposed to do? Working at that restaurant isn't going to cover so many expenses, and I can't just find another job, I-_ '  
You're almost too afraid to look at it. Fear gripping you in an dreaded hold that makes you fumble the lock and step through the threshold, absolutely ignoring the notice on the floor. You're not good with confrontation. You wouldn't know how to go about this. You needed extra money if they were still hounding you. You needed extra...  
You pull the card out of your back pocket, and dial the clinic number. It doesn't reach a full first ring before someone picks up. "Hedgeworth Clinic, this is Dr. Gaster speaking." the voice crackled over your shoddy little cellphone speaker.

"Uh, yeah, Hi, Dr. Gaster. It's um, it's _____. I wanted to call and let you know I've decided to take you up on that offer. I can be in to sign the paperwork after the clinic opens tomorrow, if that okay." You sound awkward. You know you sound awkward. You're kind of trying to keep your insides from becoming your outsides. "Just, whenever is most convenient for you."

You can hear the grin in his voice when he speaks. "Ah! Yes! Of course. I will be in by nine, but sans should be here promptly after it opens. I will print out the paperwork tonight. Thank you for your cooperation in furthering our research for the betterment of monster and humankind, _____." Well if that didn't sound like a goddamn super-villain about to eat a bowl of vanilla icecream.

"Sure, no problem. I'll see you in the morning then." you hear the click of the ended call before you could say goodbye. Eyes still locked onto the yellow piece of paper, you cross the room, shut the door, and kick it to the side. You didn't have the fortitude to deal with this right now. You would pick it up, and read it in the morning. When coffee and sleep were a thing. Yes. Right. A good night's sleep is all you need to face a small... yellow piece of angry paper. Right. Okay. It's all fine.

It's okay. You were okay. Just a minor setback, and you could easily fix this. Your hand gripped your cell a little too hard. The screen popped back to life, music blaring in the silence of the small living room. It startled the shit out of you, but you just barely manage to hit the answer button instead of dropping the damn thing.  
You clear your throat. "Uh, hello? Yes?"

Snickering. "What's got you in such a knot, _____?" Oh thank god, it was Undyne. Irrational, loud, powerful best friend Undyne. "I called cuz Alphys is having another anime night thing, and wanted you to watch some new Mew Mew thing with her. I'm too busy tonight, since I work, and I don't want her feeling lonely. Think you can cover for me, punk?" there was a lot of clattering on the other end. Undyne must be in the back doing dishes.

You spot the yellow slip at the corner of your eye, still on the floor. "Yeah, sure! I'm down for that! Let me just grab some stuff and change real quick and I'll let Alphys know I'm on my way." You knew you were just using this as an excuse to get away. Facing problems wasn't your strong suit. Not ones this big. Or persistent in your life.

"Heck yeah! Thanks, _____! I owe you one!" She hung up before you could respond. You wasted no time in grabbing your backpack, a few essentials, and whirling out the door and down the street in a hurry. Tonight, you would drown out your problems with a nice talk and hangout with your best friend's nerdy girlfriend.

Tomorrow would have it's own troubles. But for tonight, it was okay to forget. Even if only for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: HOLY HABANERO SAUCE, HOMBRE!!! LOOKIT ALL THAT SUPPORT!!  
> Holy cripes. HOOOOOOLY CRIPES.
> 
> You guys are amazing!!! I'm going to work extra hard on this, and do my very, very best not to disappoint! (Well, to not disappoint too strongly, anyway). For anyone interested, I'll be posting at least once a week, since I have lessons and work each day.  
> Keep being beautiful, and stay determined!


	2. Appointments suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't met a single human or monster out there that is happy for a routine physical. We ain't starting a trend here today, either.

_It itches. A lot_. That's the only thing going through your mind as you scratch at electrodes covering various parts of your body. It's ten in the morning and you're sitting back on that examination table, legs hanging off the side of it, shifting uncomfortably in a paper-thin hospital gown. It was time for the initial tests and examinations of your soul. But first, they needed to go through a routine checkup to ensure you wouldn't be compromised if you had anything wrong with you health-wise. Though you were sure you'd catch a goddamn cold in this napkin nightgown they forced you to wear. Granted, there wasn't much else they could do to cover you up. You got to keep your underwear on, at least. Which was the least amount of decency you could afford under their scrutiny as they moved your arms and legs and face this way and that. Checking for some level of extremity or deformity that they would have to compensate for and make sure to cater to in a timely manner. Or so they said, the rude bags of bones. I mean, you think that other guy is made of bones. He looks like bones. His head and hovering, weird ghost hands do. _A ghoul ghost skeleton. Skeleghoul. Ghostiskel. Ghouliton?_

  
"Ow!" you yelp, as an electrode is yanked none too kindly from your right forearm. "That HURT!" you couldn't help the subtle whine to your voice. You sat there for longer than necessary, practically naked, in a cold room, with these two numbskulls prodding and poking at your joints and muscles until they very well bruised. Now this son of a nut sucker wants to stark yanking heavy duty stickers off your arm??

  
"sorry, kid." the short skeleton man said, face placid, eyes looking at the new electrode he was peeling the back off of. "put that one in the wrong place." he stuck another one in place, pulling your arm back down so he could re-examine the new placement. You got the very distinct feeling he was not sorry. You resist the urge to grumble to yourself.

  
"Turn your arm this way, if you will." Gaster was at your left elbow, adjusting the wires around you, making sure you were properly hooked up to the machine. Big and beeping and ominous, built into the wall behind you. Looked like a space terminal from star trek or some other nerdy sciencey show. "No, the other way. Oh, for- here." he turns your arm roughly, and set about fiddling with more wires. This guy was definitely not sorry.  
They were not very kind in their administrations. Sharp and bony fingers and palms digging carelessly into your flesh. You felt more like a guinea pig than anything else. Sitting under bright lights on a steel examination table covered with a thin and unknown fabric, in a tiny room that had a side room with a two way window and four monitors. There were so many wires sticking out of you, you felt like a potato project from the hell-fires of fifth grade. The only difference being that a spud would be treated with much more care than this. 'I wonder when they'll be done. It's almost time for lunch. Huh. Am I allowed in their cafeteria here? Do clinics have cafeterias? I wonder if they sell little cartons of milk there. I wonder if they have strawberry. Strawberry milk is the unicorn of all milk. Or is that banana milk?'  
You kick one foot out, resorting to your usual posture when getting lost in thought. A firm hand grasps at your shin, smooth fabric of the lab coat cool against your skin.

  
"Keep still." The taller guy said. You make a face, sighing, scratching at your arm. "And quit fidgeting. I don't want to have to reapply these a second time."

  
'I'm not fidgeting,' you thought bitterly, 'I'm adjusting myself to be more comfortable. Making me sit still like a statue. Screw you bone man. Ghoul man. Person with the stupid face. Stupid face-ghoul-jerky-  
"Ow-UH!" you cry out again, this time with more emphasis, pulling your arm away from another stinging pain in your right arm.

  
Sans looked up from where he was on the swivel stool and quirked a brow bone at you. "we told you to sit still."

  
"I _AM_ sitting still! I wasn't even moving that time!"

  
"your head was." was that a smirk on his stupid teeth??

  
"Funny how my head has nothing to do with _my arm_." It was one thing to instigate a cranky and hungry human being. It was another to do so by ripping arm hair off via electrode. You were ready to kick his chair and send him tumbling off that stupid stool.

  
"Enough." Gaster said waving sans off. The same firm grasp is now on your chin, forcing your face to the left. "Look this way." There's a cold sensation on your temple, another red and blue wire in your vision.

  
"Do we really need this many?" this was kind of starting to get ridiculous. Weren't these things strictly for heart monitoring or something?

  
"We cannot afford to overlook any data. This is the easiest way to cover all of our bases." his hand goes back to your chin, tapping under it lightly. "Look up."

  
You sigh, but obey. Looking up at the buzzing, overly bright lights. There is more subtle tugging at the wires stuck fast along your chest and neck. You can feel sans' bony fingers flitting around your arms and legs, rechecking the ones he placed. From somewhere in the next room, you hear the steady ticking of a clock, the same AC unit joining in with its distant rumbling. There's a thought in your mind, about wanting to look out a window. To lose yourself in a landscape that wasn't white or sterile. Looking out at the sky, making shapes in the clouds. Thinking of something nostalgic to go with the picture. Something that could settle your nerves or take you back to something kinder than this. There was a quick pat to your elbow, stirring you from your thoughts, signaling they were finished prodding at you for the time being.

  
"Alright." Gaster adjusted a final wire and took a step back. "That should do it. Sans, if you will." he motioned behind him without looking, keeping his ghostly eye lights on you, flickering over you to inspect their work. "Yes. Good. We should be provided with enough data from this. Now, I want you to stay as still as possible during the procedure. No more of this incessant fidgeting."

  
"I'm not fidgeting, I'm adjusting. My butt fell asleep. And how am I supposed to manage sitting still for so long? I'm not a statue, you know."

  
"Yes, well. Call it what you will. I can't have you moving around too much. And stop scratching at the pads. Do not make me say it again."

  
Jeez. Okay mom.

  
"it won't take more than another hour or so. the hard part is done, kid. we'll just ask you some questions, monitor your vitals, administer a little magic to your soul, see how it reacts, and you'll be home before you know it." sans is walking up to you, rolling a small cabinet in front of him. You recognize the instruments on top immediately.

  
**___________________**  
 _*You decide to say something._  
**___________________**

  
You decide to say something.  
"Is that a needle? That's a needle. You didn't tell me you were going to take blood! You said it was just a routine check-up and standard evaluation! Needles don't fit in anywhere in that!"

  
Gaster made a face, clearly annoyed. "We didn't say there wouldn't be any either. It's one needle. You'll be fine. Let us draw some blood and let it be done with. We're enough behind schedule as it is." He's already putting on gloves, reaching for the syringe. You are not assuaged, instead resorting to holding both your elbows and glaring dubiously at him. You didn't like needles, but you didn't like his attitude more. Putting those two together made your insides squirm with unease. He matches your look with an impatient scowl. "Don't be such a child, and give me your arm. The faster we get this over with, the faster we'll be done here."

  
You shake your head, unwilling to unfold your arms. For a few brief, tense seconds, you hold each other's gaze, your body language becoming more tense and defiant as the clock continued to tick away the hour. It was comical, really, both of you attempting to budge the will of the other without actually moving at all.

  
Sans steps in after a bit, putting one bony hand to the doctor's shoulder. "that's, ah, some bedside manner you got there, bro." he looks at you, motioning to the needle. "how about I do it, huh? My baby bro is really off-put by needles as well. and if I can get him not to be such a babybones about it, i'm sure i can do something for you."

  
His sockets look tired, face sporting an attempt at a reassuring smile. When it's clear you're too indecisive to say anything in response, he moves to put on gloves and sits back in the chair, scooting closer to you. One hand reaches out, patiently waiting for you to comply. The older doctor seems mildly disgruntled but doesn't move to stop his assistant. Instead, opting to take off his own gloves and walk across the room to the waste bin. Your eyes follow him briefly before moving to the floor. Needles sucked. Hard. But not being able to get out of here for another extra hour sucked harder if you didn't do this. You reached out and took the bony hand in front of you, letting him turn it over, and prod around your inner elbow for a proper vein. He went about the usual prepping, tying a tourniquet in place when he was done.

  
"Gas. c'mere for a sec." sans motioned with his chin over to your left side. "grab their other hand, will ya?"

  
"What? Why? I'm not going to slap you or try to pull the needle out or anything, if that's what you're thinking. I know to sit still when there's an object in my arm!"  
He shook his head. "not the what i'm trying to imply, pal. just, trust me on this, okay? i know what i'm doin'. Gas, grab their hand."  
You regard one another for a brief moment, your eyes on his odd hands, his barely holding back a biting comment. Sans doesn't say anything. Just sits there and waits on one of you to comply. He reacts first, holding out his hand for you to take. No wrist to those bones. A hovering hand conveying annoyance on every level, fingers beckoning quickly. You plop your hand in his, awkwardly trying to grip around the hole in it. It was weird, but hey.  
"now, i want you to look over to where the doc is. don't look back until i tell you to, alright? hold his hand nice and loose. and when you feel the pinch, squeeze his hand as hard as you want. then we're gunna count backwards from twenty, okay? can you do that for me?" His tone sounds like he's talking gently to a little kid. You feel grossly embarrassed that you made enough of a fuss for this to be a thing. You weren't a child, you were just not very font of anything pokey or slicey or cutty or stabby coming anywhere near your fleshy bleedy self. Still, you nod and turn your head. You gave them this much of an issue, and embarrassed yourself with how reacted. You made this bed. You might as well lay in it.  
_Eugh... why was Gaster's hand so clammy? Couldn't he at least have the decency to wipe his hand before grabbing yours? Wait, how could they be clammy? They felt like bone, but, not really? Bone skin. Fleshy, weird, clammy bone skin._  
  
"ready? put your hand in a fist for me. Okay now, biiiiiiig pinch," you shut your eyes and squeeze Gaster's hand hard, feeling the sting of the needle enter your arm. You could feel his fingers curl around your reflexively. He let out a grunt of discomfort. "now count back from twenty. and i want you to slowly loosen your hold on the doc's hand the closer you get to one, got it? go ahead."  
  
"20. 19. 18. 17."

  
"Was this really necessary-"  
  
"leave it be, gas. keep countin' kid. you're doing good."  
  
"16. 15. 14. 13. 12."  
  
"theeere you go. just a little more."  
  
"..." a dark vest rose and fell in an unseen sigh in front of you, clammy hands still allowing your grip. You focus on his name badge, an equally scowling face in a tiny square just above his printed last name.  
  
"11. 10."  
  
"okay, halfway through 20, now i want you to take a deep breath while i take the needle out."  
  
You inhale, "9. 8. 7. 6." there's a muted clatter, and pressure on your skin. "5. 4. 3." something cold swipes your skin again, there's more pressure as something is stuck on top of it. "2. 1."  
  
"and there you go. see? not so bad. all the hard stuff is out of the way now." You look over and see a colorful band-aid. Sky blue, with little green snails on it. He shrugs with a smirk. "colorful band-aids for the new found babybones."  
  
"... I have skin though." that was the only comeback you could think of. You were an adult goddamn it. How do you keep getting yourself into these kinds of embarrassing situations? Maybe saying something was the wrong choice, here...You rub at the spot tenderly, feeling pretty stupid, but also relieved it was over.  
  
"Right then. Can we move on, please?" Gaster shook his hand free, wiping it on his lab coat and picking up a clipboard that lay next to you on the table. "Now that your little episode is over," episode? That's a bit dramatic, "We will be moving on to the next test."  
  
"i'll go turn on the monitors." sans said, kicking the table to send himself sailing backward on the rolling stool and out the door to the right of the room. He was out of sight in moments, the familiar clacking of a keyboard echoing from the doorway.  
  
"You will lie down, and keep your arms at your sides. We will be asking you a series of questions, to which you will answer simply yes or no. Do you understand?" you open your mouth, ready to confirm, until, "Or will your fear be an issue a second time, and you feel the need to hold my hand for this procedure as well?"  
You decided this guy was an asshole.  
  
___________________

 _*You decide to argue back._  
**___________________**  
  
Two can play at this game.

"Depends. Are you going to stick anything sharp into me again? If so, I might need you to dislocate your hand and keep it here with me. You know. Just in case I feel the need to take all this fear out on something."  
  
He takes the bait. "If you behave yourself, I don't think we'll have any further use for needles today." he doesn't look at you, flipping through the papers on his clipboard and marking off things as he goes. That was a thinly veiled threat!  
  
"Oh, good! And here I thought you just liked to surprise your patients by sticking them with pointy things." he looks up, clearly agitated. You look on, clearly aggravated. "And here I thought I was special. Not to *needle* you about any of this. But I'd like a little warning next time you decide to poke at me with something, doc. And maybe remove the rod from your butt. You're grumpier than my aunt." you thought you heard a snicker from sans. You couldn't be sure.  
  
"You reacted quite childishly to something so routine, might I remind you. Or was your colorful display there not enough? If this is the way you are going to react every time you disagree with something, you have every reason to fear for your future. You won't be lucky to have someone so patient next time."  
  
Okay. That stung a little. This guy was getting downright pissed with you. You could tell he had a long day. Impatient twitch to the lips, slightly hunched posture, quick to reprimand. It was pretty obvious he had no remaining stores of energy for whatever you wanted to bother him about. The hard look he was giving you was enough of an indication that you should probably stop. You weren't a mind reader, but you excelled in reading body language. You got your point across, so did he. Maybe it was time to back off a little.  
  
___________________  
  
_*You decide to let it go._  
**___________________**  
  
"Just saying. A warning would have been nice. Popping up out of the blue with a syringe is what super-villains do, you know. Or mass murderers." you say, raising your hands in a placating motion. _'Or mad serial killer super-villains who are trying to rule the government' your brain continued the thought, 'or psychotic cat burglars who are actually cats who-'_

  
"Great. Now you can lie back, and decide which one I am while we prep the machine for the next test." he stands in front of you expectantly. When you make no move to lie down, he taps your knee with his pen impatiently. "I said lie back. Surely you can do something that simple without needing guidance."  
  
This salty motherfucker.

* * *

  
The questions take the better part of 45 minutes, since your 'maybes' outnumbered the yes or no categories along the way. You got more than one earful from the tall and salty doc about your attention to his instructions, even having him come back out into the examination room and point his stupid pen threateningly at your face.  
  
"What part of 'Yes' or 'No' do you not understand? There are only those two options. No 'Maybes' no 'It depends'! Just yes or no. Go it?"  
  
"I didn't understand the part where you said please, because I didn't hear it."  
  
"You are delaying the tests with your incessant attitude problem. If you want the bill for the consultation to be waived and still receive your pay for what you are doing here, you will comply to my instructions. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
You don't say anything. Just scowl at him and huff angrily. You made sure to stick your tongue out at him as he turned to leave. Sans was peeking out the doorway, leaning back in his chair, smirking at you. You stuck your tongue out at him too, for good measure. Gaster plopped back down in his seat, shifting papers around and going back to taking notes in a very small notebook he pulled from his coat. Sans followed suit, both now absorbed in their work. You resign yourself to your current fate and decide to just wait it all out.  
Lying on that table was making your back cold, and making your butt fall asleep with how hard it was. The amount of shifting you were doing caught you another glare from the other side of the window in the monitoring room. The cold from the table was beginning to creep into your bones, and you started shivering. The lights were hurting your eyes. Your neck was getting stiff. These questions were stupid. Your arm hurt. And you were hungry, goddamn it.

  
"try to keep still, kid." came sans' voice over the little speaker on the ceiling. There was a tired softness to his tone, one you recognized as an attempt to pacify your restlessness. Gaster's muttering could be briefly heard among the static. The loud beeping and various tones of the machine you were hooked up to causing your ears to ring in discomfort. It was wearing away heavily at your nerves. Something needed to give, and soon. Or you'd be walking straight into that cafeteria ( _that you think might exist_ ), in all your wired and furious glory.

  
****____________________  
  
_*You decide to let it go_  
____________________

  
You decide to stifle the annoyance and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  
No use fussing this time around. It would just earn you another reprimand from Doc Von PissaLot over there. The guy was a tightly wound ball of twine snapping in odd places. Tall and partial skeleton, all sharp angles and sharper eyes. Cracks on the right and left side of his face. His right eye was mildly deformed. Maybe he just had a lot going on, and got cranky from it all? The short one was a little sassy sometimes, but nowhere near as pissy as his tall compadre over there. Short, permanent smile, thick bones, untied shoes and lazy posture. His skull was unusually rounded in areas where a skull would normally have more definition. Nearly perfect circles for the sockets, pinprick lights an almost powdery blue. Sharp and round. Maybe that's what you should call these two. Weird shapes sitting next to one another in a weird universe. The adventures of Sharp Man and Round-o. You briefly wonder if you could make a successful tv show off of something like that.  
  
"hey, kid. you fall asleep or something? haven't heard you complain about being cold, and it's been nearly five minutes since your last one."  
  
There's a moment of silence, in which you contemplate answering or pretending to actually be asleep. Until Gaster's voice comes over the speaker, sans' finger still on the button.  
  
"If they are asleep, let them sleep. We have less than five minutes or so to go, and I don't need their ridiculous behavior messing anything up before we've finished."  
  
Ah yes. Sir PissaLot the Salt Pillar. There was a fair share of salt in any give day of the week when you worked in food service most of the afternoon, but this guy was like the dead sea all bottled up in a neatly pressed lab coat. If his voice weren't so nice sounding on its own, you would think he'd be better suited in a retirement home somewhere. _Crankier than an old coot. Old coot, huh. Where did that saying come from? What even is a coot? Sounds like something a southerner would make up or something. Or maybe it's-_

* * *

  
"why are you so hard on them, anyway? it's just one whiny little human. nothing you haven't handled before." Sans was leaning lazily on the button terminal, absently taking notes of the data on the the four large screens. "i haven't seen you this easily peeved since the incident with the core back in the underground. took you months to let that one go."  
  
"The core was my pride and joy, and you knew it. So did everyone else." His tone was even, tinged with an indirect annoyance. "I risked everything to make it a possibility. Destroying it to bring me back seemed like an insult at the time."  
  
"funny how you were the only one to think so. besides," he yawned, "wasn't like we were going to use it again anyway, now that we're free."  
  
His older brother snorted derisively. "Free, you say."  
  
"yeah, well. i use that term loosely. we're as free as we're ever going to get. and paps was happy to see you again too. hard to believe so many people forgot about you all at once though. wonder what kind of magic was happening in the core to make that happen."  
  
Gaster was silent, still carefully writing away on in a small notebook he always carried with him in his lab coat. His jaw was set, the tightness of it causing a faint cracking sound when he went to speak,  
  
"That's a discussion for another time. For now, I think we're done here. Take the remaining vitals, and we'll send them home." he began gathering up the paperwork, neatly stacking them with the rest on the clipboard. Your form lay still eyes closed, looking about as frail as a human body could look under the lights of the half empty room. The bright blue band-aid standing in stark contrast against all of the white surrounding you. There was something crawling in the back of his mind. Something urging itself towards the light, a tingling sensation in the hand that was gripped so tightly before. Something there spoke of an experiment done too long ago, in a room too dark to remember. There wasn't any time to placate the feeling by diving into nostalgia. He didn't have the mind for this right now. Gaster clenched his fists and rose.  
  
"Get them out of my sight before they decide to whine about something else insignificant."  
  
"...whatever you say, doc."

* * *

  
"So they just had you sitting on a lab table while they stuck you with those weird electric thingies?" There was mirth in her voice as she said so. Undyne was finding your ordeal to be one of the funniest things she had heard all week. "And you fought with the doctor, too? Come on, _____, you know better than that! Soul evaluations are mandatory! I'm surprised they didn't just take your money and send you away with how you freaked on them."  
  
"It isn't funny, Undyne! That place was a sterilized nightmare! There were two of them too! One really tall guy, and some short and sturdy looking skeleton dude." you were laying on your couch, bluetooth speaker on, playing some music on low. It was cold and raining outside, the dull sound of droplets hitting the window making the moment that much cozier. There was a large fleece blanket over your legs, and an old pillow, flattened from years of use, propped behind your back. There were snacks on the end table, and bits of spilled cheerios on the carpet. It was messy and small, but it was home. "Seriously, though. You should have seen it. The tall guy had at least twenty light years of lead stuck up his ass or something. I could sip from the ocean and get a taste for something less saltier than he was. Ever seen a salt pillar? Put a lab coat on it and make it sound like an obnoxious Harvard dropout. Yeah, that's him."  
  
Another laugh on the other end. "You sure it wasn't just because you were being such a big ol' pile of baby butt about everything? I mean, from what you've told me, I think you kind of need to give them some credit for being able to put up with you. Hell, even Alphys gets a little unnerved when you get grumpy."  
  
The music lulled as it switched over to the next on the playlist. You pop a few more cheerios in your mouth. "Alphys gets unnerved by literally everything. Besides, I get grumpy when I'm hungry! I can't help it! And it was cold, Undyne! COLD. I could have stuck a freeze-y pop in the center of the room and it would still have had frost on it by the end of the whole session."  
  
"Oh quit yer whining, punk. At least they didn't restrain you or put you in a dog cage or something. Besides! You're getting paid, aren't ya?" you make a hesitant sound of agreement, "Then you just need to put up with all the doctor crap until you can get a proper job placement."  
  
"I just wish they'd be quicker about this, is all." There was a brief moment of silence. You didn't like what was coming next, and felt anxiety stir in your chest. You wanted to avoid this talk. You wanted to avoid this reality. You wanted to change the topic again, like you did countless times before. But Undyne spoke first,  
  
"They gave away the last of your shifts over here, _____. If you don't get a job placement soon, then... Well, I'm just worried, you know? You could be in a bad spot, and it frustrates me that I can't help you. Not until you can suck it up and grit your teeth long enough to get the license you need for a new job." the familiar edge to her voice was gone. Replaced with something more mundane. Something quieter. And for Undyne, that was terrifying. You didn't like that tone. Didn't like the implications of it. Didn't want to know what she thought of you. What Alphys thought of you. You didn't want to know. You felt afraid and cornered. And you wanted to pretend that feeling wasn't there.  
  
"Your last paycheck should come in sometime this week, Grillby says. He made sure it was enough for next month's rent. If you can't afford the month after that from what these clinic guys are giving you, Alphys and I can spot you if-"  
  
Your mind flashes to the yellow slip, now sitting on the counter in your small kitchen. The bold black words that sent your world crumbling around you facing the leaky ceiling. Menacing print unfolded, on display in your tiny living space. You didn't have enough money. Not for anything. You were lucky enough that water and electricity were included in the rent, or you'd be shit out of luck for sure. You couldn't afford another month's rent. But if Undyne and Alphys wanted to help... I mean it couldn't hurt, could it? Asking for some help until you were placed?  
  
**_________________________________**  
 _*You decide to lie._  
**_________________________________**  
  
Your pride takes over, and your grip tightens on the phone.  
  
"That won't be necessary." you cut her off. "I actually had a little money saved up on the side just in case, since I was afraid this might happen." What were you doing?  
  
"Wait, what? Really? Then what about all that stuff you said to Alph last night about the-"  
  
"I was kind of freaking out, I'll be honest. And I might have made it into a bigger deal than it seemed." she makes a sound like she can see your fib, so you decide to add, "I mean, with the money I'm getting from this clinic thing, I should have enough combined with what I've saved to keep the place until I get my official soul evaluation license. It'll be close, but I think I can manage." you tack on a half-hearted laugh. You pray to whatever deity is listening that Undyne doesn't pursue it any further.  
  
She doesn't.  
  
"Well.. alright punk. But you let Alph and I know if you need any kind of help. We're here for you, remember that. Literally a phone call and a subway ride away."  
  
"Of course, Undyne. I don't think I could ever forget. The last time I got sick, you burst into my apartment with an armful of cold medicine that would have drugged me up for the next ten years!"  
  
"If you can't rely on me to pour medicine down your gullet when you're shoveling snot out of your nose, then you can't rely on me at all!" She sounded like herself again. "I have to get back to work. My break is almost over and I need some grub in my stomach or I'll be the next one causing problems around here!"  
  
"Heh. You do that. I'll see you around, Undyne."  
  
"You too, punk."  
  
The beep of the dial tone met your ear, and you quietly place your phone on the end table. The music shifted to some soothing piano piece. There were voices shouting at each other in the apartment beneath you. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed in the streets. The world went on as it usually did. The same things occurring almost like clockwork. Yet you felt as though your entire existence hung on a thread, little bits of the flimsy string fraying as the weight of your problems grew at an alarming rate. Why was this stupid soul thing so necessary? Why did this have to be a thing?  
Part of you, a deep, dark part of you, almost wished the monsters never revealed the value of souls at all. Then, you thought, then you could have just kept your job at Grillby's. You could have avoided the clinic fee for the evaluations. You could have continued life like normal, hanging with your best friends in the morning, and working through the evening. You could have used your tips for shitty food at the noodle place down the road and not counted the pennies with regret afterwards. You didn't need all of this added stress. Life was already hard enough without all this soul value garbage. The fact that your worth as a worker and your job security hinged on something so utterly ridiculous...  
You could have told the truth to Undyne, but you didn't want any handouts! You didn't want to be seen as someone pathetic. You wanted to fix this yourself, so they wouldn't have to worry. So they wouldn't have to skip out on date night for a month just to cover your sorry ass. You didn't want that at all. Sooner or later, they'd wind up dumping you on the street just like everyone else. Sick of your shit. Sick of your excuses. Whiny, crazy, shitty you. More flaws than actual talent or likability.  
Tears of frustration sting your eyes, but you angrily blink them away. You needed to figure out a solution to all of this. And quickly. The only thing keeping you afloat right now was the promise of pay for your services in the research department of the clinic. This apartment was all you could afford, and even for such a shitty place the rent was difficult enough to afford.  
But you decided that it was worth it to move to such a busy downtown area along the east coast. It was a shoddy little town, not the best but not the worst. An hour drive to the ocean, a five minute walk to work, a ten minute bike ride to the grocery store. It was all doable. Convenient. Allowed you to rely on only yourself. Easy to transition to after your last residence.  
This was supposed to be your new start. Your better life. The path to a better you. The best you that you could create. No one knew you here. So it would be easy. That's what you told yourself. But nothing is always as easy as we plan it out to be. More often than not, plans fail before they've even gotten off the ground. And the constant heavy feeling in your chest never truly left you. The feeling of pointlessness ever lingering in the deep corners of your mind. The darkness that sat up there had a nest long before you met and befriended Alphys and Undyne. So you knew it would linger long after anything that would come. The bottle of medicine sitting in your cabinet sung a song of time better spent, or moments better experienced when you weren't truly yourself. There were pictures on your wall of faces you no longer wished to see. Of promises you had no intention of ever keeping. This was your life, here, now. There was no use chasing ghosts, you told yourself. No use chasing anything at all...  
Sitting up, you rest your forehead on your knees, wrapping your arms around your legs, and sighed. A door slammed down the hall. A fly buzzed away in the kitchen, bumping the florescent bulb. The rain continued it's melody on the window. The music continued to play. Your problems continued to exist. And your world continued to unravel at its edges.

* * *

  
"They're pathetic, and whiny. How on earth they developed a soul like 'Tenacity' is beyond me." His aggravation was unreasonable. He understood this. Knew it was only going to further hinder his work. But knowing this did nothing to soothe it. "The only tenacity I see in them is how they cling to their food like a starving animal."  
  
"you were the one who offered them the job, you know. they're kinda your responsibility now."  
  
"Now that the medical board and science division has agreed to switch our project focus for a while, I think I've trapped myself in this. I didn't think they'd be so, so-!"  
  
"immature?" sans provided.  
  
"Uncooperative! Every other minute it's some kind of argument or fuss over something! I'd fix them with a gag if I weren't being so closely watched by the King!" he was practically shouting. His anger was unrelenting. They were a full day behind schedule due to all of the setbacks. There were feral dogs with more cooperative tendencies!  
  
He was tapping away at his desk, pen in hand. The usual light of the streetlamps shining obnoxiously through the blinds. Sans, located at the other side of the unnecessarily large desk, was tapping away at the keys on his laptop, stifling yet another yawn. There was a steady drumbeat of rain all around them, the many windows lining the walls portraying the neon city streets below them. Gaster's personal office was located on the fifth story of the Hedgeworth Clinic building, completely filled with dark mahogany furniture that he wanted to do away with, but never found proper replacements for. The carpet was a dark green, with barely visible patterns adorning it. The room smelled faintly of dust and cigarette smoke. No doubt from a former resident who once preoccupied the stuffy cube of a room. There was still bits of discoloration on the walls from where plaques and diplomas and other menial garbage sat for one too many years. The evidence of a life long before his presence was even a consideration.  
He felt confined. Strained. Claustrophobic in this place. Long gone were his days of pacing in a roomy underground lab, no one but him and his handful of assistance occupying the entirety of the floor. Gone were the hours he could spend in utter silence, ruminating on the data gathered from yet another anomaly in his work. The pen stilled, balancing between his index and thumb, a feeling of melancholy beginning to seep into him. Gone, were the days when his work actually meant something to him. To his kind. To anyone...  
  
"you okay, doc?"  
  
Half-lidded eyesockets regarded him curiously, fingers paused over the keyboard. Steam rose from the mug next to the smaller skeleton, the bitter scent of coffee an almost welcoming scent in the stuffy little room. Gaster leaned back, rubbing a hand over his tired face.  
  
"How did it come to this."  
  
"eh, the data isn't too bad. they aren't the best subject of discussion, but-" he shrugged.  
  
"Not the human." there was a hard edge to his voice. His gaze was cast out onto the streets below, eyelights flickering. Everything was warped by the rain, images stretching and blurring between the droplets streaming down the window pane. The occasional umbrella dotted the scenery, bobbing along the sidewalk as cars drove past, the distant sound of a siren wailing over the downpour. There was a full minute of silence before either of them decided to speak again.  
  
"you know it can't be helped, Gas." came his brother's tired response. There was a heavy sigh before he continued, "you know just as well as I do that there was a price to pay for our freedom. humans? they, just don't know how to deal with us yet. and this was the only way we could contribute to a society that was already in place before we got here."  
  
Politics. The nitty-gritty garbage of the human world. Complicated, convoluted, counter-productive. A child's game of chess, with made up rules and broken pawns stuck fast together with poor quality glue. Dazzled in glitter, to add a false feeling of self worth in society. Nothing but a bunch of mindless idiots being yanked around by marionette strings. And he was now taking part in this. A knight on the table whose many years of research were turned into yet another twisted law on that tiled plane of existence. His life work being rendered to such a level of manipulation made him positively sickened with rage.  
Relinquishing their knowledge of soul structure and attributes was a mistake. Knowing human souls had 'values' created a schism in the business market first. Then in the job market. Soon, the whole country was in a fuss about soul value, and what those values meant for their future. And with all of this newfound information, they needed a way to settle the public. To make sure they could make the most of it all. Develop a clean and easy way of filling their fat greedy fingers and line their pockets much faster. As such, Gaster, as well as many others, became a manual sorting system for human souls. A way of determining power and usefulness. A way of determining the future of all human kind. Creating a whole new way to destroy communities and drive rifts between families, friends, coworkers, loved ones. His work was meant to free his people. Never had he expected it to yield such overwhelmingly negative results. To have it affect millions in such a way.

"nothing comes for free. and right now, we're paying our due."  
  
"A due of servitude, being treated as lesser than humans. I don't know if I could call that any better than our previous circumstance."  
  
"not everyone thinks the same, Gas. a lot of us found a better way of living, up here. we're doing just the same, working here. doing something other than rotting in a dust pile under some mountain." he regarded the other carefully for moment before adding, "or rotting in some form of limbo in the center of your own creation."  
  
Gaster was silent at that. There was an air of truth to what his younger sibling was saying. Some form of chivalry in those words that he was certain of, but were lost on him. He could do this work to better foster friendship and connection between monsters and humans. Lie to himself that this meant something more than it actually was. But then again, what good ever became of lying to yourself about these things? Or to others for that matter. He knew the kind of person he was. What he desired. Seeing the sky for the first time was more like magic than anything he had experienced previously. There was beauty, even here, in this world full of chaos. A double edged sword they were made to carry so long as they remained above that god-forsaken mountain.  
From power to servitude. From one cage, to another. With or without a sky, they were still singing the same song they had sung for many hundreds of years. At least back in the underground, sans still told jokes. He had much more life to him than this. Here, right now, in this room, they were kindred souls with matching shackles, stuck in a game they were never asked to play.  
Such is life above the world they once knew.  
  
Not all dreams are worth pursuing, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little backstory here for the two docs in coats! If you feel like it's a tad slow, I apologize! Just a little exposition before the juicy bits, I promise!  
> Thank you to all who have read this so far, and all of you sweethearts out there for your feedback! I will continue to do my very best!
> 
> FAITH! POWER! TACOOOOOOOSSS!


	3. Defining Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doc is in, and it's time to teach the class about soul values!

"hey, pal. you listenin'?"

You felt hazy. The hour ticking by without your knowledge as sans stood before an old whiteboard, black marker in hand, an impatient brow bone quirking at your vacant stare. This was the break bewteen the tests that Dr. Gaster had allowed under the condition that you did something productive in the meantime instead of falling asleep in the waiting area. You weren't opposed to a nap, but apparently that was unprofessional. And since you were getting paid for all of this crap, you had to adhere to the expectations of working 'employees'. An aggravated groan tore from your mouth as you slumped on the back of the chair you were straddling. You were tired of these lessons. You knew them well enough at this point.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Soul stuff, economy. Monster junk. Human junk. Can't we just pretend you taught me something? Gaster wouldn't know if we faked it!"The short skeleton looked mildly affronted at this. You weren't sure why, but you guessed he actually liked teaching. That or you accidentally said something offensive there. Which, given your disposition, wouldn't be so far off the mark. The brain to mouth filter felt a little looser when you were tired. Six hours of sleep and a cup of coffee only gave a human so much patience...  
  
"just repeat back to me what i just said, and we can call it a day on this." he hadn't moved from his spot in front of the board, fully expecting you not to comply. You made a face. "just repeat it. as concisely as you can. and i'll put down the marker, and be done with it."  
  
The small break room was quiet for a beat before you sighed loudly. "Human souls have different 'values', which can be things like Kindness or Patience or, uh.."  
  
"determination." sans supplied.  
  
"Yeah, determination. Among other stuff. Soul values give humans different kinds of powers. For the Monster Ambassador, that was the power to save and reset. I mean, if you believe that kind of stuff-"  
sans' teeth clicked subtly, a sign you learned to be his way of showing aggravation. You cleared your throat, continuing. "Some soul values have less power and influence than others. Kindness is coveted by social workers, bravery by local law enforcement officers, integrity amongst most religious circles, and so on. Uuuuh, and, there were a few others. But they're all just used to give us job placements now and stuff." bare legs kicked out from the ugly hospital gown, knocking your heels against the floor. "Are we done now? I already got this schtick and speal during the first year monsters lived here."  
  
"do you know why soul values exist now, and didn't then?"  
  
"Magic and stuff, I think? Do we have to learn that too? I mean it doesn't really matter does it?"  
  
There was a hissing noise between his clenched teeth. You could barely see the outline of fangs there, hidden in the seamless connection of bone. You folded your arms on the back of the chair and rested your head on top of them, looking at the floor. There was uncertainty burning in your gut, eating away at any resolve you had to argue. How quickly your tenacity disappeared when someone became angry with you. His patience was beginning to run thin with your constant complaining. It was true that you weren't the best student when it came to remembering fine details and repeating back information. It's why you never went to college. You just took it as you went, learning along the way. New information would come and you'd get the gist of it. But these two doctors, along with some of their other colleagues were not entirely pleased with your lackadaisical attitude about the subject. It wasn't that you didn't care. You just didn't see the need to think so deeply about it all. This was life now. Nothing more could be done about it, and nothing less would come from it. No matter how deeply you think about it, it won't change a thing. YOU wouldn't be able to change a thing about it. So why think about it? Just live and be. Go with it. That was just your constant state of existence.  
Small, black polished shoes clicked on the floor, entering in your peripheral. There was something in the air at that moment that you couldn't place. A tenseness to your shoulders, a readiness to defend yourself. But why? The walls a little too confining. Hospitals were garbage. Even the breakrooms had a sterilization to them that seemed to emit a death frequency that unnerved the living hell out of you. It was a break room. Somewhere to sit and eat and buzz about the normal crap of the day. Now it seemed anything but. With how quiet he was now, and how close he was standing, there was something seizing your heart with the need to open up a goddamn window and breathe for a second.  
  
"what i'm trying to teach you here isn't useless, you know. determining soul values is important. there is a reason we all adhere to it now. it is a way to find where we belong, where best we can connect and contribute to the life and well being of others around us." this all sounded rehearesed. Well worn around the edges with a weariness you didn't have the heart to question. "there is more job potential out there for everyone. degrees are no longer required in many areas on the surface because of this. this has-"  
  
"-changed the lives of literally millions of monsters and humans. I know, I know."  
  
"if you know, then stop acting like a child and start paying attention. because without proper understanding of new soul values, like yours, there will be a lot of people out there with nowhere to go."  
  
That got to you. You didn't feel you were being childish at all. You weren't stupid either.You just... You wanted this all be done with just as much as the next person! You knew you had to help out and be cooperative, you knew it could help others in the near future. You knew that figuring out the anomaly in your own soul would eventually lead to breakthrough for those who would come after you. It felt like peer pressure all the time to cooperate, and they ALWAYS used the same damn speech to get you to stop your fussing. It wasn't childish to feel tired, to complain. It was human.  
  
"Any maturity at this point would be a miracle from them." that cool tone slithered it's way into the room, and the air soured considerably around you. God. Not this living salt spire again. "I've finished the preparations. And lucky for YOU, human, it's a simple observation test. Something even a child could pass with enough patience and cooperation."  
  
Fuck this place. You just wanted to go home. You just wanted to be done with all of this. No, going home sucked right now. There were missed calls on your cell from Undyne and some worried messages coming from Alphys that you lacked the energy and drive to attempt answering. Being home would mean you had no excuse. Being home meant you had to face the things that caused you stress. No, you didn't want to go home. You wanted to go somewhere. Away. Just, away. From here. Everywhere. A heaviness settled in your chest, as Gaster continued to speak.  
"We will not tell you when it starts, or what you will be doing, or who you will be interacting with. We will judge your reactions accordingly and keep your soul separated for the duration of the test." there was no response, your head still resting on your folded arms over the back of the chair. The tall ghoul looked to sans, eye-lights holding a brief question. He was met with a half-hearted shrug. "When you are ready, we can begin."

* * *

 

 

It must have been at least a year now, or so the human calendar on their wall said. It hadn't been that long, in his head. Not at all, really. The time passing seemed almost like a week in the underground. But then, he could never really see the constant changing of the sky, and only really slept when he felt he needed it. Life on the surface seemed incredibly different. And, much to his disappointment and anxiousness, far more brutal than he could ever imagine. It was the second week on the fifth month, according to that calendar. Which meant his brother was at work, doing his thing again at that clinic. He hoped it would be a better day. Hoped that any day would be a better day. His brother had come back so haggard and emotionally compromised after the first few days there, that for once in his life, he didn't think that loud encouragement and the occasional scolding could fix this one. He had hoped that all of these troubles would pan out in due time, just like so many had before when they lived beneath the mountain. He would make spaghetti, sans would tell awful jokes, Undyne would come over, and they'd cook together for a while until all of the unpleasantness lifted from his soul. Things felt so much... simpler, then.  
  
Papyrus rubbed one gloved hand over his arm in uncertainty. He didn't like this feeling. Didn't like that it occupied his mind more and more as the days went by. Was this an effect of the human world? He hadn't felt this way back in the underground. Not this strongly, anyway. He was a master at finding the good in the world. But even his talent was being challenged by life above ground. It was all so new! Even his job was new! He worked security occasionally at the King and Queen's estate, escorting Frisk from meeting to meeting as the official ambassador. He felt so official! So strong! So very important! But... but then the riots started. Then the humans revolted. It was a long and hard fought battle to keep the peace. He saw the weariness on all of his precious friend's faces. He felt that weariness in his bones. That fragile sense of anxiety was too new to the once happy skeleton. Too much to understand. His brother had looked so devastated the first few months above the surface. They had all felt the sting of monster racism. There were many who stood by their side. More so than they thought! Papyrus heard the king once say that 70% of the population above ground welcomed them all with open arms.  
  
"But sometimes we fear what we do not understand." the king, Asgore, had said. "And when we fear something, we want it to go away, so those feelings can go away with them. If they don't go away, we want to fight them. Hurt them. Get rid of them by any means necessary. Fear is a very, very tricky thing, Papyrus." his soft but strong hand patted his shoulder softly during the aftermath of the first riot all those months back. "When someone shows fear, they either run, or they fight. When you show them that there is nothing to fear, you open up the option to communicate instead. This is the approach we must take, if we wish to have true peace of mind on the surface and live side by side with humans once more."  
  
Right now, Papyrus was anything but certain of himself. There was a chill in his soul that he couldn't be rid of. A nervousness to his demeanor he couldn't quite shake off anytime he entered a room. He didn't want to scare anyone! But everyone always seemed so frightened of him! Sure, his mere presence could be a bit demanding. He was a pretty cool dude, after all! He just wished that he could get other people to see that he meant no harm to them at all. He wouldn't raise a single bone at an innocent. He just wanted their friendship. A chance to prove to them that not monsters were so much more than what they thought...  
  
"heya, paps." the familiar lazy voice filled the silence of the room he sat in, stirring him from his worries. Sans stood in the doorway of the small clinic's waiting room. There was a twitch in his eye as he looked Papyrus over. He knew something was amiss. But didn't address it, just stood and awkwardly shuffled in place. "we're, ah, ready for you in here. the room is down the hall, first door on the left."  
  
"OH! YES, OF COURSE! I AM READY!" despite his worries, being able to help his brother at work was something he relished when he got the chance. Being able to contribute to monster-human relations was a worthy purpose for someone as great and kind and equally cool as he! "I AM READY TO INITIATE FRIENDLY RELATIONS WITH THE HUMAN!"  
  
"heh. okay, bro. just don't get too friendly in there. wouldn't wanna spook 'em out of their skin."  
  
"I FEEL LIKE THERE MIGHT BE A PUN COMING. AND I AM LEAVING BEFORE YOU CAN SAY ANYTHING TO RUIN THIS MOMENT."  
  
"nah, i don't have the mind for it right now."  
  
Papyrus squinted suspiciously at his brother. He wasn't sure if that was meant to be the pun. It was a weak one, if so. That permanent grin widened marginally.  
  
"what's wrong, bro? don't you believe me? I swear I don't have the stomach for a joke right-"  
  
"I AM LEAVING THIS ROOM, NOW, AND FAR AWAY FROM YOUR INCREDIBLY UNFUNNY JOKES."  
  
"but you're still standing there. seems like a pretty tall tale to me."  
  
"ALL YOU MAKING A PUN ON MY HEIGHT? SANS I SWEAR-"  
  
"no way. compared to you, those jokes come up a little short with me."  
  
"THIS IS ME LEAVING. GOODBYE SANS." the taller skeleton walked quickly out of the room and down the hall, just barely catching the end of something else sans said before disappearing around the corner. Something about a chair in a room?

* * *

  
The Great Papyrus does not get lost! He only takes touristy detours through a building he has yet to familiarize himself with! That being said, retracing ones steps is never a bad place to start. He remembered that weird knob on the door past the exit sign. He remembered that one cracked tile on the wall. And that same chewed up piece of gum stuck to the railing on the wall. Why do humans make all the waiting rooms look the same? This was just poor map design, really!  
  
"First door on the left? Yet which way would left be, if I go back from where I came?" he mumbled to himself as he walked, completely absorbed in his backtracking to notice anything profound in his surroundings. "Humans have such repetitive hallways. I would at least make the floor a different color!"  
  
"...Hello? Is someone there?" the voice was soft, gentle as it rang out in the sterile white halls of the clinic.  
  
Papyrus honed in on the sound, making an immediate right, whirling around the corner with relief when he realized he wasn't as alone as he thought himself to be in these winding halls! "HELLO? WHO IS THERE?" he called back, seeing a head poke out from an adjacent room.  
OH... this human was... He could feel the power of their soul from where he stood. Not even seven feet or so away. It pulsed strongly with a pure kind of power that he couldn't deny. It was electric. Nowhere near as influential as Frisk's soul, but still enough to capture his eye! This was a human of potential, to be certain! One even he would be proud to test in battle!  
they smiled gently. "Hello. I thought i heard someone walking around out here. I thought you were the doctor." their voice sounded like the gentlest touch, soft and comforting. For a human, their appearance was incredibly appealing, even to the great and handsome Papyrus himself! They were in a gown that tied at the back, hair pulled back from their face, eyes glowing with a hidden mirth.  
  
"Looks like I was mistaken. But I do think you are the monster someone inquired about earlier. You are here for the soul evaluation tests, right?"  
  
It took a moment for him to respond, "AH, YES. THAT IS ME! I AM HERE TO INITIATE FRIENDLY RELATIONS WITH A HUMAN SUBJECT! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" he struck a valiant pose, for emphasis. "ARE YOU THE HUMAN I WILL BEFRIEND TODAY?"  
  
They laughed. It was a pleasant sound. "Oh, no. Not me. I just finished my evaluation, and am waiting for my paperwork. The human you are looking for is in the next room over. That one there. " the pointed to a half open door, dim light spilling out into the hall. Papyrus deflated marginally. He had thought, (hoped, really), that the human he would befriend would be someone as great as he. Any friend at all was worthy of the great Papyrus, of course! But still...There might have been a feeling of disappointment weighing itself in his chest. But he could not be sure.  
  
"OH. RIGHT. THANK YOU, OTHER HUMAN! I WILL GO AND FIND THEM."  
  
They nodded, feet shuffling quietly back into their room, the door closing with a quiet sound behind them. Papyrus briefly wondered what kind of job that type of soul would be placed in. If it were strong enough for him to feel long before checking it himself, then there is a good chance they would be placed somewhere near the royal family. Strong and bright souls were ideal for security around important monster figures. As well as human ones. He had no doubt they would be put somewhere high up, with a role suited to such a unique soul value. But deliberation for other souls were not ideal at this time! He needed to find the human he was to meet for the test!  
Papyrus walked quickly over to the indicated door, putting one hand on the knob and pushing it open. The room inside was... empty? He scanned the room, utterly confused. That couldn't be right. Where was the human?

* * *

  
One red gloved hand came up to scratch at a particularly long and pronounced jaw bone. There were no light in those sockets. Just a confused quirk to the mouth and brow as that skull scanned the open space of the sparse room. One table, two chairs. Both vacant. There was a pretzel stick between your teeth, hanging out of your mouth. Snacks were essential and important, but for some reason, you didn't bite down on it yet. Something about that confused expression made you wonder if the monster actually didn't see you. _That would be insulting. But.. then again, kind of cool. You could probably steal cake from plates over at the bakery if you had secret invisible ninja powers. You could, like, pet all the dogs in the word. And kiss a pigeon without it flying away. Or poke a squirrel. Or-_

* * *

  
Something seemed amiss here! Why would sans send his great and wonderful brother to an empty room? Surely, this must be a mistake. That other human might have meant another room in that direction. A quick walk back out into the hall and a brief scan told him that this was the only room they could have pointed to. Perhaps the human was late? Or off in the little human's room?  
The dim light was offputting, making the place look less like an observation area and more like a place to take monsters who had fallen down. It was a dark thought, one he didn't want to entertain. Confidence wavering slightly, he decided to try stick his head back into the room. There wasn't much use just standing there, anyway.  
  
"SANS?" he called out uncertainly. "IS THIS THE CORRECT ROOM? IF IT IS, PLEASE INDICATE OBVIOUSLY AND CLEARLY THAT IT IS. OTHERWISE, I WILL BE FORCED TO WANDER THESE REPEATING HALLS UNTIL I FIND THE CORRECT ONE."  
  
**_*crunch*  
_**  
He whipped his skull in the direction of the sound. A human, plain and unassuming in every sense of the word sat on the floor with a magazine in their lap, eating a pretzel. Average features. Average height. Clad in a hospital gown, dark eyes regarding him carefully. There was a brief crackle from a speaker on the opposite wall, but nothing more came from it. Papyrus looked back to the form sitting on the floor, instead of on one of the chairs placed neatly near a table at the center of the room. Nothing was said for a few beats. Something felt amiss, here. Yet he could not wrap his skull around it. This human's soul... He couldn't feel it anywhere! How odd! But even more odd... How had he, the great Papyrus, not seen you sitting there? His careful eyes could spot a lesser dog in the snow faster than any monster could dare compare! So how had you escaped his notice? This puzzled him greatly.

* * *

  
Pretzel crumbs fell onto your left leg, bits of it getting on the magazine you were reading to pass the time. The sound of it snapping between your teeth immediately drew the gaze of that pronounced and angular skull. Sockets widened with obvious surprise as you drew one hand up and waved awkwardly.  
  
"Uh, hey. Are you the monster I'll be doing the test with? I'm _____. I guess I'm supposed to just talk to you for a bit while they observe my soul or something." There was an awkward silence. Whoo, boy. You weren't good with awkward silences. "heh, uh. yoooou... want a pretzel? I have a whole bag. I got hungry and thought it wouldn't hurt to snack on something while I waited but I guess that could be seen as kind of rude considering-"  
  
"HUMAN! HOW DID YOU ENTER THIS ROOM WITHOUT MY KNOWING?! SURELY, YOU MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING REMARKABLE TO GET PAST THE GREAT AND OBSERVANT PAPYRUS!"  
  
Jesus CHRIST his voice was loud!!! It bounced around the room like a super-ball thrown with a little too much force, smacking into your eardrums with such a force, you had to clap your hands over your ears for protection. His voice was orotund, and sounded a bit like he spoke through his nose. It wasn't deep, but wasn't high pitched either. It was... an okay voice to listen to, oddly enough? The monster entered the room completely, barely touching the top of the doorway with his skull as he did. He had on a long red scarf that hung partially like a cape behind his odd looking... armor?? It looked like armor. Or something. He had on red boots with black buckles, worn at the soles and nicked here and there from constant use. Black material covered his arms and legs. His skull was a little thinner than sans' by comparison. Defined cheek bones and animated yet open features. It still befuddled you how bone could move so much like a human face could. But then, they were monster. Monsters equaled magic. And magic made everything possible. Even this tall goof. He looked every bit like some odd comic book character that got lost on its way to a convention somewhere. He... looked......  
kinda cool, actually.

* * *

  
"SO YOU LIKE TO COOK?" The tall skeleton had opted to sit across from you on the floor, legs stretched out, wiggling his feet back and forth, leaning forward and talking animatedly.   
  
"Eh, kinda. Mom and dad taught me how to cook when I was small. And by taught, I mean I mostly watched them, and they commented every now and again on what they were doing."  
  
"DID THEY MAKE SPAGHETTI?"  
  
"Mom liked it! But dad preferred chopped suey."  
  
"WHAT IS CHOPPED SUEY? IS THAT A FOOD YOU CHOP VICIOUSLY WITH THE INTENT TO SUE?"  
  
"Haha, oh my god. No, dude. It's a type of dish with pasta and meat or something. It's a little like spaghetti, I guess? Just with smaller macaroni noodles instead."  
  
"DO YOU USE SAUCE IN IT? DO YOU SMASH VEGETABLES, LIKE YOU WOULD DO FOR SPAGHETTI SAUCE?"  
  
"you can use sauce in it, yeah. But you should probably stick to chopping vegetables instead of smashing them."  
  
"IS THAT THE CHOPPING PART OF THE SUEY?" he frowned.  
  
"I guess? I never really looked into it. Just sort of accepted the name and went with it." you said, chomping away at another pretzel.  
  
"IT IS AN ODD NAME TO GIVE A DISH, TO BE CERTAIN. WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO SUE A DISH?"  
  
"They don't want to sue food, my dude! I don't even think that would be a legal court case!"  
  
"THEN WHY NAME IT SOMETHING SO ODD, IF THE INTENTION WAS NEITHER TO CHOP OR SUE IT?"  
  
You snorted with a chuckle. "Criminey Christmas, my dude. You're a mess."  
  
His face scrunched up at the comment. "I ASSURE YOU I AM NOT. I AM WELL PUT TOGETHER AND EVEN CLEANED UP BEFORE COMING HERE!"  
  
"Hahahaha! That's not what I meant!"  


* * *

  
"It seems that their soul is stable now." disappointment colored his tone as he observed the gently pulsating soul in its container. Still darker than average, still struggling to emit a proper light in the dark observation area behind the window. "No new developments so far. But that first introduction..."  
  
This was meant to be a routine test for determining communication skills in a soul. Most who underwent these showed rudimentary communication skills. Very atypical of humans. Monsters excelled more so in this area. Their souls lighting up, twirling, or flashing during certain points in the conversation. Souls, they hypothesized, showed someone a lot about a person when they spoke. You could hide an expression, but not a reaction. This soul, your soul, barely changed at all. It stayed floating in place. No signs of connection, no indication of even being awake, of being a part of anything outside of the container it sat in. Sans was beginning to think the soul was well aware of what the two scientists were attempting to judge from it. That it was purposely keeping itself in check, but shook the idea from his skull. The tiny area they sat in was too small for unsettling thoughts.  
  
"yeah. no kidding. kid's soul dimmed out for a few seconds. never seen that before when the subject was awake. sleeping, sure. but awake?" sans was tapping away idly on his clipboard, watching his brother's expressions from beyond the glass. Papyrus was sitting on the floor, across from the human, moving his feet idly as he nodded along to what they were saying. Something stirred in his rib cage. Doubt. Fear. Guilt. He wasn't keen on letting his own brother take part in this experiment. He wasn't keen on Papyrus being in this building period, with the constant moral ambiguity he had to face not just from the company, but from himself whenever he set foot in those doors. But Gaster assured it would only be a communication based test. That his baby brother would only need to engage in typical conversation. Nothing more than that.  
There was more confusion in his challenging the idea from Gaster at first. But then, he realized that no one could talk to humans like Paps could. He practically excelled in all forms of speaking and inter-connectivity. His soul was the one to get the job done if they were dealing with an anomaly. With reluctance, and a fair bit of arguing his case, he had called his brother and set up the time for him to come in. It wasn't too difficult to convince him, either. Without the typical escorting jobs going on since the riots some time back, Papyrus had been out of a paying job for more than a few months now. It was getting pretty tight in the finances area of their lives. They needed the money. Plain and simple. Sans just wished it didn't have to be in a place like this. A human sorting system. A morally ambiguous business control method.  
  
"looks like my brother is more into the conversation than the subject is, really. feels like we're observing the wrong thing here."  
"There is more than one way to stoke a fire." there was a thoughtfulness to Gaster's voice. He had an idea. "Perhaps we should attempt to switch partners, yes? Call your brother back in. I have a plan."  
  
The short skeleton whipped out his cell without much argument, opening up a message to text Paps with. "sure thing, doc."  


* * *

  
~~_**\------------------------------------**_~~  
 _*You decide to speak up._  
~~_**\-------------------------------------**_~~

  
"Where did the tall skeleton guy go? Why are you here?" there was a wariness to your tone. An uncertainty in your chest when you watched him sit down by the table. You did not move from your spot on the floor. Something here didn't feel right. "Is the test over?"  
  
He was of a rigid countenance, one leg crossed over the other, clipboard in hand, no white lab coat to cover his tall body clad in dark clothes. It felt more like you were viewing a living shadow than a corporeal being. Those eye-lights flickered over you. Analyzing you. Looking straight through you. A shiver of something ran up your spine. Masks and public niceties were a quick way to gain favor and get through things relatively unharmed. But this, this was the equivalent of you being under a microscope, unclothed and open for dissection. There was something raw in the way he viewed you. Something utterly terrifying in it. The comfortable companion ability of the taller skeleton from before was much more preferable than this. You didn't feel so pinned in place with them.  
  
"We'll be done with the tests momentarily", came his deep, smooth voice in the growing silence. "I have a few more questions for you, and then we can wrap up today's findings." he flipped through some pages decisively before pulling them from he clipboard. "Come. Take a seat. It will only be a moment or two."  
  
With reluctance, you stood from your spot, dusting off pretzel crumbs and adjusting the hospital gown. Bare feet shuffled quietly on the floor as you made your way towards him. A shock of nervousness rattled around in your chest once you finally settled against the metal and plastic of the uncomfortable chair. There was something about the way the room felt, something about the way the doctor sat. Something about the sheer energy they put out that caused a shift in your demeanor. Your left leg started bouncing in place. You were on edge, without knowing why.  
This didn't escape the doctor's knowing eye, a slight quirk to his mouth as he regarded your form sitting before him. It felt good to be in power over someone. But your overall body language was giving him the control entirely. Head lowered, spine curled in slightly on itself, no direct eye contact, nervous fidgeting. Normally, such things would be off-putting. Yet something about the subtle gestures there made HIM feel more comfortable about addressing you. Surely, if you were this cooperative in a dim room alone, then he could at least get some proper answers out of you. Anomalies were all well in a good in a day's work, but they made work harder for everything else in the end if nothing was gained from them data-wise.  
  
"Right. Now, let's start off with something easy. How are you currently feeling, health wise, and emotional wise." he clicked his pen, ready to jot down notes, still regarding you with a hint of knowing in those sockets of his.  
  
This was easy, right? You could answer a few dumb questions. "Health wise? I mean, I'm fine, I guess. I got back problems and junk. But that isn't an issue a pain killer can't fix. Umm, emotional wise, I'm, ah, good." that last part wasn't very convincing. And apparently the doc thought so too.  
  
"Good? Are you certain of that?"  
  
"Hah, yeah. As good as a human can get on a day to day basis." Okay, better. A little better.  
  
"That's interesting. Most humans I've seen come through here look and act nothing like you. Perhaps your idea of what is 'good', is a bit skewed."  
  
That made you stop for a second. Your leg stopped bouncing. _Wait, what? What did that mean? Were you acting weird? No, no you didn't really give anything away there? God, why did you have to feel and act so awkward all the damn time? No, no that wasn't awkward, it-_  
  
"Next question. Concerning your sleep schedule, how often would you say you sleep at night? Is your schedule consistent, do you suffer from any form of insomnia?"  
  
Shit. Well... "I mean, I sleep well for the most part. I get around five, six hours a night on average, I think? I've always slept like that, though. Nothing weird there."  
  
"No bouts of insomnia?"  
  
"Well, I mean, not that I... know of?" He regarded you carefully again at that. Crap. Crap. Don't be weird. Breathe. Just be honest. "Most of the days blur together when you work a lot! Heh." That was a weak save, goddamnit.  
  
"Right." Slender, white and boney fingers flipped through another page quickly as he jotted something down there. "Next one. How are your eating habits."  
  
Eating habits? These were literally just the routine questions you got asked at any old health office in town! What was this about? "Uh, yeah. I eat pretty well." You patted your stomach for emphasis. "If you couldn't tell! Heh, heh heh."  
  
A boney brow quirked at you unamusedly. "I know nothing of standard human anatomy that correlates to food consumption. So no, I could not tell simply from looking at you." He jotted something down again while you scratched your bare arm nervously. This guy was hard to talk to. You missed the taller skeleton guy...

* * *

  
Sans and Papyrus shared a bag of chips as the doctor questioned you, Papyrus making comments here and there, or going off on random tangents after hearing the questions you were being asked. Sans, on the other hand, was observing your soul very, very carefully. The second you had locked eyes with the doctor when he walked in, it sparked, literally sparked, for a few seconds. During the lulls between questions, the pulsing from the soul grew louder and louder, the color of it noticeably brighter than it was before. Something was going on, here. There was an emotion you were riding on, and he was trying his damnest to figure it out. Tenacity meant you clung to things, that you didn't let something go easily. That you were stubborn. It could be easily mistaken for Determination, if it weren't for the subtle differences in the way the two soul values compared in a difficult situation. Where one would allow themselves to be defeated, and find another means of going forward, the other would cling to an ideal with a ferocity that spelled more trouble than victory. Tenacity was a difficult thing to assess. And so far, they hadn't gotten many answers from your still unresponsive and oddly dim soul.  
Sans checked your stat values once more on his screen:  
~~**\----------------------  
**~~**  
**~~~~**HUMAN: ~~~~_____  
**  
**HP: 6**  
**ATK: 5**  
**DEF: 11**

 ***Always hungry.**  
**~~\-----------------------  
~~**  
Nothing new there. Still, the dimming light would pulsate every now and again, the thudding sound reverberating the glass container. Something was amiss. Something that was causing you to fight back in some way. Causing you to react. The soul sparked again, an electric bolt of energy circling it before fizzling out of existence. What was causing this? He opted to shift his focus instead on the two of you conversing with one another, studying his brother carefully as you answered him.  
Everytime you answered a question, Gaster would offer a rebuttal. Something that clearly threw you off, by the looks of it. You visibly huffed and then crossed your arms, a signal in body language that you were attempting to emotionally withdraw from the conversation. It was then that the skeleton understood; he was purposely trying to unnerve you. He was trying to make you uncomfortable, purposely being a terror to you everytime you spoke just to make you angry. But to what end, he wondered?

* * *

  
It had been nearly thirty minutes of this. Routine questions, typical answers. So why in the seven hells were you so goddamn unnerved and strung tight about all of this? Your careful facade had practically been obliterated by his directly callous commenting on your answers. You were ready to be done with all of this. Ready for it all to go out the window so you could walk the hell out of this place already. You've had enough of this twisted doc.  
  
"And if the person in question tried to harm you, even kill you? What would you do then?" Gaster had long since given up jotting anything down further, and was now leaned back in his chair, observing you, his overall body language dismissive and uninterested.  
  
"Uuuugh. I don't know. If the guy was going to kill me or something, I'd obvilously try to escape. Try to call for help or something. Or hit him hard enough to daze him and run just far enough to hide somewhere until he runs past me."  
  
"Hide? You would hide while a murderer came for you?"  
  
"Well you can't run! The guy will see you running down the street! He'll see where you're going! If you hide, he can't see where you went, will probably go running in that general direction, and THEN you can run off quietly in the direction behind him once he passes by!" You felt your reasoning was sound. Like it was good, smart, clever even. But the noise of passive disapproval coming from the ghoul's throat made your teeth clench in anger. "Well how would YOU handle it, mister high and mighty?"  
  
"How I would handle it isn't of concern. It has no direct correlation to your testing. So I'm not obligated to answer that." Fuck this stupid shitty doctor fuck. He visibly smirked, noticing your obvious aggravation.  
  
"What if there was no place to hide, and you had to fight?"  
  
"I would find something to smack the guy with so he'd knock out, and, I dunno! Climb up high! On a building! Or find an apartment complex and ask to hide in their apartment!"  
  
"That still counts as hiding. What if you were in an empty field?"  
  
"I'd lie low to the fucking grass and make sounds like a goddamn carrot. I'd be one with the grass." If he didn't want to take you seriously, then you wouldn't bother to, either.  
  
"What if it was made of dirt? Nowhere at all to hide?"  
  
"I'd goad the attacker into charging me, and trip him so I can take his weapon!"  
  
"What if he didn't charge you?"  
  
"Then I'd figure out a way of de-arming him!"  
  
He leaned a little further back, smirk still in place. "And if he didn't have a weapon?"  
  
"I'D BITE HIS FUCKING EAR OFF AND RIP HIS FACE OFF! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME? DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY I'D CRY AND RUN AND BEG FOR MY LIFE? FUCK YOU, YOU SICK, TWISTED FUCK!! I'LL FIND A WAY TO OUTSMART HIM AND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM. ISN'T THAT ENOUGH OF ANSWER?!" You rose from your chair, red faced and shouting. Ready to flip the table or topple the smug doctor from his own chair. You were done. DONE. With all of this garbage today. You were ready to fight! To punch something! You were so damn aggravated! Why was he being so annoying about all of this?!  
  
Gaster rose carefully from his seat, drawing himself up to his full height, practically towering over your significantly shorter height in comparison. You visibly shrank back, but still held your spot, not moving, not unclenching your fists. Frozen in place with equal parts fear and anger.  
  
"I think that is enough for today. Wait here, until my assistant comes for you." eye-lights flicked over to the corner of the room. "And pick up your trash before you leave." He gathered his papers, stuck them to the clipboard, and walked out. The door closed behind him with a loud click. You shook. Shivered. Seethed quietly. Everything went momentarily quiet, blank.  
  
There was a pain in your right wrist when you came to, a visible dent in the table that you had just pounded and then flung to the side. The magazine lay in a heap on the other side of the room next to it. Both chairs were on their sides. You made a mess of the room, it seemed.  
What? You didn't do that?

* * *

  
All three brothers stared at you through the one way window. At your heaving form, at your confused expression. At the abused table. The toppled chairs. The ruined magazine. They were quiet for a time, all regarding you in different ways. Judging your actions in their heads for a time before making any move to comment.  
  
"IS THE HUMAN ALRIGHT, BROTHERS? THEY LOOK... QUITE UPSET."  
  
"geez, Gas, what the heck did you say to them? they went crazy on the furniture in there."  
  
"I said nothing of consequence, I assure you." Gaster mumbled. "Seems we have a live wire. That might make things a little more difficult than I thought."  
  
"THE HUMAN DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THE TYPE TO ABUSE A PLACE OF EATING. YOU MUST HAVE HURT THEIR FEELINGS. OR TOLD THEM SOMETHING UNKIND ABOUT TABLES."  
  
"heh. nah, paps. i think they're just upset, is all. probably stressed out from all the testing. it can happen to humans sometimes. they get a little angry under stress."  
  
Papyrus looked down at his brother dubiously, obviously not convinced. It was getting harder to fool him, now that they were on the surface. He was becoming much, much wiser to the ways of the world, and looked worse for wear because of it. But his upbeat belief in seeing the good in the world never truly wavered. It stayed ever in place in his beautiful soul. Bless that tall pile of bones. He was a semblance of purity and brightness that sans needed as a constant in his life right now.  
  
"I DON'T KNOW, SANS... IT SEEMS LIKE IT MIGHT BE SOMETHING MORE."  
  
"I couldn't very well get answers any other way. We either push them to give us something, or we get nothing."  
  
"i guess there's truth to that. if we can't sort this human, we'll be stuck down in the side labs forever until we do. they'll have to hire two other scientists full-time if we don't get this done within the month."  
  
There was a sound of discontent from their eldest brother, but he relented. "I suppose having them angry won't do us any good either."  
  
"OH!" Papyrus shouted, a little too loudly. "I KNOW WHAT WILL CALM THE HUMAN DOWN! FIND SOMETHING SOFT AND CUDDLY! THEY TOLD ME THEY LIKED TO COLLECT SMALL FUZZY ANIMALS WHEN THEY WERE AT A YOUNGER HUMAN AGE!" he grinned widely, thinking that this was clearly a brilliant idea.  
  
"uh, well, that could work too. but i have a better idea. how about you go little easier on them, doc? you have been kind of a medical asshole these last couple of days to them."  
  
"I cannot help it if we got saddled with a child. If they wish to act up, they will be dealt with accordingly."  
  
"heh, you know, bro, sometimes it just takes a little bit of effort to be kinder to someone for things to work out properly."  
  
"Kinder?" he said those words with trepidation. Kinder wasn't his go-to method for answers. It felt pointless. Impractical. "What are you trying to suggest? That I hold their hand and treat them like an actual child?"  
  
Sans turned completely to Gaster, his attention pulled away from you cleaning up the mess in the adjacent room for the time being. "i'm saying be a little more considerate. when it comes to the final paperwork, you'll be doing it, and apologizing. i'll be taking Paps home."  
  
Gaster opened up his mouth to protest, face twisted in obvious discontent.  
  
"non negotiable. this isn't my beef, and i'm not cleaning up your mess this time. if you don't start being a little kinder to this human, our work is going to get a lot harder from here on. no more egging them on. no more being rude to them. go in there, ask them how they are. apologize, and be done with it." he brushed past, opening up the door. "i'll send them back to the main clinic area. after that, i'm taking Papyrus home. you can figure everything else out between now and the paperwork."  
  
Gaster looked affronted by this, but said nothing. Papyrus patted his shoulder reassuringly and followed sans out, looking back one last time at your seated figure on the floor.  
  
"I REALLY DO THINK THE FLUFFY ANIMAL IDEA WOULD WORK, BROTHER. YOU COULD TRY THAT ONE, IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" with that, he bounced the rest of the way out of the small confines of the observation room, disappearing from sight. Sans waved lazily before trailing after his baby brother.  
  
"good luck, doc." he said. Gaster was going to need all the help he could get with that hubris of his. The guy was about as humble as a ten foot statue of Zeus.

* * *

  
You were back in the main clinic after following the two skeletons, (that you now realized were brothers), back through the winding halls. Papyrus was by far your favorite of the two. Boisterous and occasionally joking about puzzles and halls and how he could trap every human in the building with a hallway puzzle given enough time. He was so damn tall! You had a thing for the tall ones. Just, not shitty and mean and tall. Like that other salty dick-spire. This guy, this big ol' pile of warm and lovable bones was nice. The nicest person you'd come across since meeting Alphys and Undyne. Papyrus really liked cooking, and even invited you to come visit sometime to cook with him! Sans looked momentarily mortified at the thought, but you agreed to do it at some point, once all of this was done. With childlike glee, he pushed his cell into your hands, asking for your number, putting you under the contact name "New Friend!". It was utterly endearing. After some time deliberating on when would be a good time to visit, sans pushed his own beat-up cell into your hands, telling you he'd figure it out at a later date. He put you under the name "Lime".  
  
When you asked, he had simply replied, "You've always got a sour expression when you see me, and you make a lot of people feel uncertain about you."  
  
You had laughed at that, but thought about it long after they said their goodbyes and left the clinic. You were like a lime? You always thought you were more like an orange. Or something. Tart and sour, but not hard to swallow. Hmm. Sounded like a euphemism. Ah, but now you were thirsty for some orange juice. Nice, cold, yummy orange juice...with some chocolate on the side? Awwww yeah. Your stomach growled again. Damn it, you needed to stop thinking about food when you were in places that lacked decent crap to buy.  
You were debating taking a trip to the vending machine for something to drink when the door opened. There was a brief hope for a short grinning skull to meet you, but your stomach plummetted when the tall doctor walked in instead. You instinctively curled in on yourself, tucking your feet under against the cold metal of the observation table, avoiding eye contact. Your wrist throbbed lightly, your stomach clenching in anxiety. He shuffled about the room for a minute or two, gathering papers and grabbing his stethoscope. These were the end of the day vitals to check for any adverse health effects or stress factors that would hinder overall results. You didn't mind them much at all, but being alone in the same room twice in a day with someone like this guy was pretty damn taxing on your nerves. You could say something to break the silence...  
_**~~\----------------------------------------------  
~~**_  
 _*You decide that silence is best._  
  
**_~~\----------------------------------------------~~_**

  
You decide to remain silent, letting him mull about the room and then decidedly make his way towards you. You still sat in the hospital gown, clothes on the table next to you, cell clasped tightly in one hand while he checked reflexes in the other. The sound of the distant clock was back again, but the usual rumbling of the AC was quiet, making the silence marginally less bearable than it had usually been. You inhale sharply when he finally cleared his throat.  
  
"I need you to sit up straight. So I can check your breathing." You did as you were told, but kept your head down. His demeanor wasn't as overwhelming as it was before, but you still felt nervous. Something cold pressed against your back, a small yelp at the sudden contact having you staring right at his face as you jolted from it. Gaster looked at you, brief confusion sitting on his features before returning to the task at hand. It felt awkward to just lower your head again. So you fiddled with your cell phone in your lap, turning it over and poking at the side buttons, inhaling deeply every now and again. After a time, he finally stood back.  
  
"Your heart rate is elevated slightly, and there is a mild strain in your breathing. But I believe that to be a direct result of your fit earlier." You glared down at your feet, clenching your jaw. Fit, he says. It was his fault in the first place. Well, not all of it really. You did kind of get riled up there. Maybe you should apologize for yelling? Your temper did flare up from time to time. Getting mad all the time wasn't healthy. It just made everyone want to stay away from you...  
  
White fingers found their way under your chin, tapping it lightly, a familiar gesture. He wanted you to put your head up. You hesitated this time, not wanting to meet those eyes. Not wanting to feel the cold sting of his disregard for you. The feeling of being scrutinized. There was a decisive click of teeth before those fingers curled and hooked under your chin, pulling your gaze upward. You expected the usual touch and prod of fingers along your neck, checking your thyroid or throat or something. Instead, there was just his eyes. His fingers still under your chin, a painful tightness in your chest growing the longer you looked into those flickering eye-lights. Nothing happened. Neither of you looked away. There was a silence that stretched, your hearth thumping away nervously in your chest, your mind painfully aware of those fingers under your chin. Something unspoken passed between you two. Something that made you forget you had arms or legs. Something that made him pause. Made him forget what he was doing. He looked away for a brief second before clearing his throat a second time.    
What the heck was that about?  
  
"How are you feeling, by the way?" Wait... what? Blatant confusion crossed your features, and his fingers moved down to your throat, prodding around like usual. "From earlier, I mean. You looked rather upset after the last few questions."  
  
You swallow. "I'm, ah, I'm okay. Just a little tired, I guess. Hey, doc?" he looked at your eyes again. "I'm... I'm sorry for yelling at you. Sometimes I get a little worked up. I didn't mean it." Apologizing to someone always made you feel... weird. Vulnerable. You were never a fan of vulnerability. But this was a place you would be visiting frequently. So vulnerability and pride be damned. Better to deal with the uncomfortable stuff now before dealing with the strain of it all later.  
  
"It's nothing to concern yourself over. I was not exactly being considerate on my part either." NOW you looked directly into his eyes. Him? Apologize? That wasn't just weird, it was downright out of character for this guy! "What? What's with that expression?"  
  
"I just, uh. I didn't expect it?"  
  
Sockets squinted at you. "I am very much capable of humbling myself enough for an apology." That sounded more like a defensive explanation that anything else.  
   
"Humbling yourself? Do you need to do that for an apology?"  
  
"I would think anyone would." he grumbled.  
  
You thought for a moment. Okay, maybe there was some semblance of truth to that. "I suppose so. But, you know. It's okay. Sometimes people get mad. It's been stressful, you guys got saddled with me, I'm not the best candidate out there for a patient. I hate needles. I get hungry easily. I can be loud, I don't focus a lot on stuff."  
  
Gaster hummed thoughtfully at that, dropping his hands from your throat and filling in the last line on his sheet of paper. But he didn't walk away yet. He remained leaned over the clipboard, tapping his pen rather forcefully on it. To the point where you thought he might make the little cap of it fling forward or fly off and get lost in the room somewhere. Why was he doing that? Was he angry about something? Was he thinking about something? Just when you were sure that poor pen would break, he turned around, dropped the clipboard on the counter across the room with a loud 'clack', and opened up one of the cabinets lining the wall. When he turned around, your eyes locked on to the thing he held in his hands.  
  
"Papyrus told me something interesting about what you like to collect." there was an awkward strain to his voice. "This thing has been sitting in the office for a long time, now. Before sans and I occupied it, even. We were going to throw it out. But if you want it..."  
  
**_~~\-----------------------------------------------  
~~_**  
   _*You decided to throw away your tough exterior._  
  
**_~~\-----------------------------------------------  
~~_**  
Before you could think, a child-like squeal of delight escaped from your mouth. It was a small one, but enough to make even this intimidating doctor flinch at the sudden noise. He held in his hands a very small stuffed animal, no bigger than his entire hand, all worn tan fur and tiny spiked sticking out from its back. Tiny black eyes looked out at the world, small arms impossibly tiny against its fat, rotund form. You briefly questioned why a doctor would keep something like that, then remembered the clinic name was Hedgeworth, possibly a play on hedgehog. You didn't think any further on it when Gaster pushed the thing into your hands roughly. You didn't care. God! You didn't care! Look at it's small arms! It's tiny eyes! those tiny little back spikes! Everything about it was sheer perfection and purity contained in a tiny puff of tan and brown! It looked so well loved! It looked so goddamn CUTE!!!  
  
"Thank you!" you practically yell at him. "It's so cute! Holy crap! Are you sure? Can I really have this?!"  


* * *

  
He was most certainly not expecting that. At all. Your whole face lit up the moment he turned around with it, dark eyes locked onto his hands as he opened them for you. You made some ungodly sound in your throat, hands flying up to your mouth in an attempt to contain your unbridled delight at the tiny, mangy looking little thing. It was a remnant of the previous employee, he presumed. Probably an old mascot for this place as well. He had seen it there on his desk once, and shoved it into the cabinet out of sight after attempting to clean everything out. It sat forgotten in there, probably longer than intended. It was a good thing he hadn't thrown it out. At least he had a chance to give it to you, instead. _For purely professional reasons, of course_.  
You had thanked him, bouncing in place, kicking your feet, nuzzling the thing close to your face, disregarding it's obviously unclean appearance. Gaster made a face at that, but couldn't help feeling his shoulders lower and his previously tense muscles relax at the sight of you nuzzling it close. It looks like his brother was right on the mark. You had an affinity for small, cute things covered in fur. (Mangy or not, he had to add). Your entire countenance radiated a child-like brilliance of happiness and momentary glee. _If humans could be so easily pleased by such small things_ , he thought, _then perhaps the surface world would seem a little less taxing, a little less dreary..._  
  
He shook his head, mildly embarrassed and off-put for reasons he couldn't explain. "Yes. Well, you're done for the day. We'll have the results for you on the tests from the past few days once you come back from your day off."  
  
"Huh? Day off?"  
  
"The clinic is closed tomorrow. They're running maintenance on the building. Come back early, same time, the day after tomorrow. For the time being, have a good eveni-" your weight slamming into him, and arms circling his waist caught him completely off guard. Something electric shot through his chest, causing him to drop his pen. _What? What just happened?_ The top of your head filled his vision as he looked down, stumbling slightly to regain balance. You looked up, eyes locking on to his, and the shock sprang through him a second time, more powerful than the last. _What is happening?!_ Gaster spluttered something uselessly before you gave another strong hug to his waist. Stars, had he only just realized how much shorter you were compared to him? The top of your head barely reached-  
  
"I really am sorry about yelling at you earlier! I know you were just trying to do your job and I'm sorry about complaining all the time! I yelled at you and you gave me this, and I'm just-!" you let him go completely, arms unwinding from his waist. "I'm just incredibly grateful that you've been so patient. I'll make a point to apologize to sans later, as well. Seriously, thank you, doc."  
  
You turn quickly and grab your clothes, quickly shuffling off into the adjacent room to change into your clothes and head out. Looking back over your shoulder you wave. "Goodnight! See you in two days! And thank you again for this cute little guy! I'll be sure to take good care of him!" One last beaming smile, and you were out of sight, the door clicking closed behind you.   
  
The electricity in his chest faded into a dull thump as his own soul attempted to return to it's usual state of calm. That was... unusual. Even for him. Is that the power of 'Tenacity'? Or is it simply a characteristic of anomalies? Had it been a result of any of the tests done prior to this? Gaster had no definite answer. He smoothed his clothes back in place, rubbed at his skull, and picked up his pen. Your entire reaction to something so utterly simple was... profound. Your entire mood seemed to shift suddenly, _powerfully_. Perhaps now, he could actually get some decent work done with you. If that was all it took to get you to cooperate, then this could be a lot easier to manage than he previously thought. Given the circumstances, he could pick up another small stuffed animal... _For purely professional reasons_! If it meant you would listen to him more, it couldn't hurt to keep a few stuffed animals lying around, could it?  
  
His gaze fell back to the spot where you sat on the table. His fingers still felt warm where they held your chin. Still feeling your arms around his waist, nearly crushing the life from his body during your excitement. The crown of your head barely reaching the top of his chest, slightly messy hair in your eyes when you looked up. You were quite the ball of unexpected energy, to be certain. So much shorter than he, and yet with all of that enthusiasm behind a small gesture. Yes, very short indeed. If ever he needed to get on eye-level with you, he would need to- 

Another shock in his chest had him looking around the room. You were nowhere in sight! So where was this coming from? Gaster rubbed his chest indignantly, frowning down at himself. This was not the time for such idiotic thoughts. There was work to be done! He snatched up his clipboard, and strode across out of the room and down the hall towards his office. He needed to sort out the data and review the recordings from today's tests. When tomorrow came, he could reassess everything anew and set up the tests for the next day. 

..... He would also make it a point to find a few stuffed animals to keep hidden in his office, should the time come again when they are needed to convince you to cooperate. This was a good enough solution for now, he decided with a nod to himself. Once the next test day came, he would be properly prepared. Of this, he was sure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I don't know if this one is a little longer than the others? But now we have some explanations going! Keep your eyes peeled for that random human later on in the story. If you're wondering about their appearance in this chapter, it is to further emphasis the point that not all that glitters is gold. Even the most ragged hearts can produce the brightest, strongest light in adversity! 
> 
> This is not a story about a hero. It is a story about a human, doing their best to live and be. Please let me know any feedback you have! I go through all of the comments and appreciate every little bit of input you guys give! Thank you so so so SO much for reading! You are all beautiful souls. (; w ;)


	4. The Masks We Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for breakfast with a friend! Happy Saturday, everyone!
> 
> WARNING!  
> For all my sensitive children out there, I want to let you know that there is mention of physical abuse and the character has a panic attack due to flashbacks. I wanted to put this here ahead of time just in case!  
> Stay safe, my lil peeps. <3

Six days, twelve hours, twenty four minutes, sixteen seconds. That was how long he had known you. Hardly enough time to get to know anyone well enough to call them a friend, really. Yet there he was, sleepily climbing the stairs of some shitty looking apartment complex, thick shoes thudding away on the old steps. The place reeked of smoke and paint. There were loud voices shouting on almost every floor. A small part of him thanked whatever powers of luck or coincidence out there that he and Pap had enough social standing and gold coming up from the underground to get their own house on the outskirts of town. Most of their neighbors were quiet. Polite. Nice enough to come and say hello every now and again, or inquire about his boisterous brother, and when he would come and draw on the sidewalk with their kids again. It was decent living, to say the least. But this? Stars, this place was a real dump. Not like some of the worse sides of town he'd seen poking about the city. But still not one of the best out there either.  
  
He reached another landing, fishing in his pant pocket for the green slip of paper his brother had shoved in his face earlier that morning.  
"GO AND TAKE THE HUMAN OUT FOR A BREAKFAST MEAL!" Paps had said, arms crossed over his too large pajama shirt that read 'I Love Pasta'. "UNDYNE HAS GIVEN ME EXPLICIT ORDERS TO ENSURE YOU COMPLETE THIS TASK, BROTHER!"  
  
"wait, what? how does Undyne even know who-"  
  
"SIMPLE! I TOLD HER ABOUT MY NEW FRIEND!" oh. right. of course he did. this was paps he was talking to. The poor pile of bones had a hard time keeping secrets, and an even harder time keeping quiet about new human friends. "TURNS OUT, OUR NEW HUMAN FRIEND ACTUALLY USED TO WORK WITH UNDYNE! THEY ARE ACTUALLY QUITE A NICE HUMAN, FROM WHAT UNDYNE HAS TOLD ME! AND ALSO A CONSTANTLY HUNGRY ONE TOO!"  
  
Sans had gleaned that much from his quick look at your stats back at the clinic. He didn't bother to mention it, though. Shrugging at the thought, and feeling mildly irritated. "not to sound like a real spoil-sport here, bro, but, why me? why can't Undyne do it herself? why don't you go?"  
  
"YOU KNOW I HAVE TO GO GROCERY SHOPPING, SANS! WE'VE RUN OUT OF SPAGHETTI SAUCE AGAIN, AND YOU CERTAINLY WON'T DO IT! THE LAST TIME I SENT YOU OUT TO BUY FOOD, WE HAD NOTHING BUT KETCHUP AND HOT DOGS FOR A WEEK!" sans snickered a bit to himself. "IT WAS HARDLY A FUNNY MATTER, BROTHER. SO!" Papyrus strode confidently across the living room, proud pose struck in the grey morning light filtering through the blinds on the windows. Sans had fallen asleep on the couch again. It was his favorite place to sleep, these days. Nice and comfy. Easy TV access. Right near the motem to their WiFi. Not too far from the kitchen. Direct view of the front door. Yup. Perfect spot for someone like him.  
"SINCE IT IS MY DUTY TO ENSURE YOU COMPLETE THIS TASK, I AM NOT LETTING YOU OUT OF MY SIGHT UNTIL YOU ARE FULLY DRESSED AND WALKING OUT THAT DOOR!"  
  
He had protested for a while at first, not wanting to leave the house on his only day off in a long time. But resigned himself to his fate once his own phone began blowing up with threats from said fishy acquaintance if he didn't leave the house within the hour. Followed by equally annoying, but significantly less threatening emails from Alphys about being nice enough to check up on you. Now, he stood in a dirty hallway, with a musty smelling carpet, attempting to read the numbers on the folded paper in his hand. Well, he was on the right floor, at least. A few minutes of walking around led him to your front door, a single strawberry sticker stuck next to the keyhole. A small wooden flamingo reading "Welcome to hell" scribbled beneath it hung from a nail on the door. If this wasn't your apartment, he didn't want to know who lived there. At all.  
With one final check on the paper, and a last weary sigh, he reached out, and knocked on the door.

* * *

  
"Remind me why we are going out for breakfast, again? I could have just cooked my own damn breakfast at home, you know. Saved us both a few extra bucks." it was nine in the morning. You were tired, weary, your joints feeling stiff against the cold wind threatening to blow off your hoodie. The world seemed like a barely dream at this point. Your hair sticking up at odd ends on your head while you sported a particularly grumpy scowl at the monster walking next to you. This guy had knocked on your door for the better part of a half hour before you gave in and opened the door with an aggravated snarl, glaring him down in all of your fuzzy flamingo pajama bottoms glory. The skeleton had only shoved his cell in your face, telling you that you had five minutes to get dressed before he called Undyne and had her drag you out of the house herself. There were too many memories of your half dressed body being pulled down that grimy hall for your immediate comfort, and you slammed the door in his face, but complied. When you came out, he had his bony thumb over call button, Undyne's ferocious picture staring out at him. It was too damn early for this crap.  
  
Sans shrugged at your disgruntled complaint. "because i got death threats all morning from a scaly acquaintance and their gillfriend about a particular human friend who was moping around like a wet blanket left out in the rain." the short skeleton pulled his hood over his head.  
  
Don't do it, _____. Don't acknowledge it. ".... was that a fucking pun?"  
  
_Old habits die hard, it appears,_ came his own bleak thoughts. "don't know what you're talking about." his grin widened in obvious delight, however.  
  
You were tired. Really tired. But making enemies at this hour wasn't going to make this day any easier on you. So you sigh in defeat, and say, "Really? Because something seems a little... fishy to me."  
  
His sockets widened, those powder-blue orbs of light sparking with delight. "I think this breakfast date is going to go swimmingly, if you keep that up."  
  
"Hardy har." You shake your head, yawning. "Puns aside, this ain't a date, alright? It's a crime against my sleep schedule. An indirect house call from my insane best friend since neither her nor Alph can come and drag me from my bed themselves."  
  
You were both walking at a comfortable pace, now. Having given up trudging angrily a few steps behind Sans, you were now standing beside him, attempting to use that wide stature of his to protect you from the more intense winds that started up every now and again. Wet concrete crunched under your worn out chucks, some of the usual dirt and debris of the downtown area meeting the underside of your foot. It wasn't a terrible place, really. Lively most days, busy on some others. This street in particular never had too much traffic. Just a lot of restaurants and office workers meandering about during their breaks. Your eyes catch the flapping flags of a storefront to your right, cold raindrops sticking to the surface of the windows, warping the images of a hand written menu, faces talking animatedly from their seats by the window. Something about life going about its usual business around you filled you with a sense of calm that you couldn't quite explain. The light drizzle mixed with the various smells and sounds from the shops filled your senses with a pleasant familiarity. Life in this town felt so much simpler than the life you remembered before this one. So much... quieter.  
  
You tugged your own sweater closed, zipping it up. "Hey. Not to seem rude or anything, but I thought you didn't much care for me? You were always a little, uh, curt with me during the tests. And by curt, I mean pulling hair off my arm with sticky electrodes. Or yelling at me when I asked about lunch breaks."  
  
sans shrugged through his dingy blue hoodie, (were those ketchup stains on the cuff?). "didn't say i didn't like you, pal. you're just not my preferred cup of tea when it comes to company. you have tendency to whine a lot. like a grape that's been stepped on or something."  
  
"I'm like a what? What the heck does that mean?" you couldn't help but feel offended at that. "This is going to be another pun, isn't it-"  
  
"put a little pressure on them and they don't make a sound. they just let out a little wine."  
  
"Oh you sunofabitch." you smirk, despite yourself. "That was actually a pretty good one. A little lame, but still good. Though, out of context, it could be a bit like a euphemism."  
  
"you don't say?" the short skeleton hummed as he paused at a crosswalk. Something about that tone made you a little suspicious.  
  
_But_ , you reasoned, _skeletons don't have genitals. And thus, you are overthinking things again. They don't just slame their pelvis into something. Or, no wait, he was a monster and a skeleton. So how did they procreate, if at all? They had to somehow, he had a brother after all! What if they just looked like skeletons but-_. You catch your floating attention as you both pause at a crosswalk. It was too cold, and you were too tired to keep rambling in your own skull about all of this.  
Cars sped on by, the occaisional honk from a few streets over echoing off the buildings around you. Huh... wait, you knew where you were. Wasn't there a-?  
  
"There!" you jumped and pointed across the street at the white and blue awning over the storefront nestled between two tall buildings. "That's the place I was talking about before! Undyne took me there once, when we first became coworkers! We got tired of eating food from the place we worked at, so we decided to come and get pancakes and waffles for once. It was pretty damn good! Gods, I am freaking hungry. I'm gunna order me some coffee and eggs." obvious excitement glinted in your eyes despite your previous contempt at the idea of wasting money. You kept pointing at the place, striking a pose, "I am coming for you, breakfast. I'm going to eat the hell out of you."

* * *

  
Sans looked at you out of the corner of his sockets. You were a real fucking weirdo. Yet, something about your more relaxed demeanor and enthusiasm for small things in life, (like food), reminded him a little of his brother. He thought about how jarring the differences were, the you here beside him, and the version of you that walked into the clinic a week ago. Did being under bright lights in a stuffy office affect you so much? Was the atmosphere of the clinic so terrible to you that you could act in such stark contrast? Sure, you were still a grumpy little shit about things, but you seemed more... well, human out here in the morning air. Away from the needles and observation tables and equally grumpy scientists watching you.  
The thought made his grin falter just a bit. Stars, he really needed a self-check if that was the case. Given the circumstances, he couldn't exactly say he was the warmest monster when you first met. Hell, he didn't even hide the fact that you annoyed him to the point of anger at the clinic. You were scared, confused, nervous, whiny and wary. Thinking back on it, a lot of the humans who came for those evaluations acted in a like-minded manner. They just learned to hide that fear a little better as time went on. Taking his frustrations out on a human wasn't going to make him feel better. If anything, he just looked like the bigger asshole by comparison.  
  
"Hot damn, this light has been green for a minute. If we don't get to the other side soon, I'll have to eat my own arm." you were rocking your weight on your heels, nose crinkling with impatience. Something about that felt endearing to him.  
  
"gotta hand it to you kid, coming from you, that's pretty disgusting. because i really think you just might do it."  
  
"If I died from blood loss, it would be an armed murder."  
  
That got a chuckle out of him. It wasn't the correct terminology, but it was a good attempt on your part. He reached out and patted you on the shoulder, earning him a shit-eating grin on your part. Sans had forgotten how nice it was to just, get along with other humans every now and again, instead of wonder if they'll turn against him, like so many times before. He could stand to be a little kinder, he thought somberly. If he did something wrong up here, it wasn't like he could take it all back anymore, and forget it ever happened. People would remember, and even be deeply affected by his own mistakes.  
That's right. Resets didn't work on the surface like they had in the underground. He tested, and retested it all. Resets didn't work, couldn't work, really. The world itself was too big for that kind of influence, nothing like the concentrated area with all of that confined magic in Mt. Ebott. He should have felt relieved, which he did. However, knowing that his actions now had a semblance of permanence, a heavier weight to them that carried a very real sense of responsibility... it was terrifying. He spent a lot of time holed up in his room with a highly concerned Papyrus hovering over him that first month out of the underground. Life hadn't been that paralyzing to him since the very first reset.

A hand waved in front of his sockets, startling him from his thoughts. "Hey, you okay? You kind of dazed out there. We missed our chance to walk, but I don't think you heard me calling you?" You looked concerned, shivering in your thin sweater. "You okay, dude?" Sans shook his head, smiling lazily.  
  
"think i fell asleep standing up, there, for a sec." your look of absolute horror made him throw his head back and laugh loudly. "relax, kid. i'm kidding. just a little lost in thought there. no need to look so rattled by it."  
  
"That was a skeleton joke, and I'm going to pretend you didn't say it." you said.  
  
"you sound like my bro."  
  
"He's the smart one, then."  
  
"heh. c'mon. looks like we can walk again. promise i won't daze out this time."  
  
"Good! Because I am so freakin' ready to get my grub on! Coffee and eggs! COFFEE AND EGGS!"  
  
"i thought you were upset about spending money on breakfast?"  
  
"I am awake, and my only goal is to eat. Since my house is too far, I will make my peace with this outcome. May the breakfast gods smile upon me. Amen."  
  
"pfffft. you're a really weird brand of crazy."

* * *

  
The two of you made your way along the crosswalk, the wet slap of your sneakers being drowned out against the busy sounds of city life surrounding you. The sky was grey and blinding with the white light of the sun behind those looming clouds. The rain pattered lightly on the concrete. A subtle lullaby in the background. It was a nice day, really. The cold sucked, admittedly. Rainy days still felt magical in their own ways, though. (When you weren't in it, anyway). When paired with restaurants or cafes, it became an event you looked forward to, even planned for. You could look out the window and point something out with a joke, or talk for hours until the rain cleared up enough for you to walk someplace new. Those afternoons were secret treasures you made the most of in your day to day life. The world could get a bit dreary with all of the stress of adult life, so why not treasure the smaller moments between the bigger ones, right? Once your feet hit the sidewalk again, you turned your attention to your skeletal companion, shuffling a couple of feet behind you. Mostly bones, partially puns. He was your height, almost. Marginally taller, maybe? Huh. Weird. For some reason, you thought he was a little shorter than you. Maybe you were wrong? He looked over at you, then, blinking. (That was bone. Solid bone. What the ever-loving fuck. That is still weird as all hell.)  
  
"what's up, kid? got somethin' on my skull?"  
  
"How come you're a little taller than me? I could have sworn I had at least like, five inches on you." you use your hand for measurement for added emphasis. "What gives, shorty? I want an explanation for this sudden growth spurt. Pronto. "  
  
You were met with a lopsided grin. "well, you aren't sitting on an observation table, and I'm not sitting in a rolling chair. so there's that."  
  
You hummed thoughtfully, continuing towards the blue awning rustling in the wind ahead of you. "Guess that's true. Welp. Now I'll always be the short one around here. Even Alphys has an inch or two on me." sans chuckled at that. "Speaking of scaly friends with aggressively aquatic gillfriends, how DO you know those two? I've never heard them mention a skeleton friend before."  
  
He offered a shrug as you approached the front of the diner, pulling it open and holding it for you. "Me and Alph go way back. Used to work in the underground labs together for a time. As for her fishy gill-frond," you walk in, rolling your eyes at the little tag on, "I met Undyne after Paps came home screaming about wanting to be a royal guard one day. Undyne was his first real friend back then. the two of them shared a zest for combat and cooking, it seems."  
  
It was warm inside, the smell of sweet syrup on waffles and the muted sounds of conversation a nice of atmosphere. He trailed after you as you made a beeline for a booth seat next to the entrance. It was near the front window, which you were pretty damned pleased with. Sans had pulled the hood off of his skull, looking around the place with obvious interest. He seemed to relax a bit, now that you were off the streets and somewhere quieter. You plopped yourself down in the cushioned seat with a satisfied smile, patting the other side of the table to get him to do the same. Sans plopped into the booth, sliding across the seat toward the window, settling in across from you.  
  
"So what's a royal guard? Is that like, the police force for monster kind or something?" you shrugged off your damp sweater, plopping it in the empty space next to you. Ugh, it was soaked. That thing really was about as thin as your patience and about as useful as it looked. It was a mistake to grab the miserable looking thing from the back of the sofa in a hurry before you headed out. You meant to throw it away ages ago. It seemed that your money for clothing was non-existent, however, and the pitiful article of clothing was here to stay. Seems your companion thought the same, features setting with a grimace at the wet plop of it.  
  
"eh, close enough to it, you could say. Undyne and some of the other royal guards just looked after the citizens and reported to the King and Queen about other stuff." bony elbows thumped on the table as he relaxed into his seat, leaning forward. "Papyrus asked to be trained to be a royal guard after pestering Undyne for who knows how long. She agreed after a time, and then they were inseparable. probably one of the best friends monsters could be to one another. wherever Undyne would be, Paps would follow." he started playing around with stray sugar packets, flicking them at the small black holder the rest of them sat in.  
  
"Wow. I'm actually kind of envious of a friendship like that. Longest I've ever kept a close friend was two years, before I threw up on her in fourth grade. Word of the wise. Don't mix graham crackers and see-saws." He made a knowing sound of disgust at that. " But I'm still stuck on why they would bother you for a house call in the first place. It's not like there aren't other people who know me well enough at my old workplace."  
  
He shrugged. "Undyne is in cahoots with Paps about keeping me from lying around the house for too long. She caught wind of my 'day off', and got Paps to pester me into checking up on you while she was at work."  
  
"Heh. Looks like she terrorizes all of her friends. Not just me."  
  
"seems to be that way, i guess."  
  
He leaned back, looking out the window with a yawn. And god what a wide yawn! Holy hell, are his teeth-? The bone separated into two parts, fangs obvious now, glinting in the grey light and dangerous looking. Something about that caught your attention and made you feel... some kind of way about it. He catches your stare, something passing briefly in his expression, clicking his teeth shut with a wink.  
  
~~**\----------------------------------------------------------------  
**~~  
      _inquire_

  
_\-- > **ignore  
**_  
~~**\----------------------------------------------------------------  
**~~  
Fumbling hands reach for the menu. You decided to ignore that, and continue talking. "I feel that almost spiritually, though. If I'm ever doing nothing, Undyne will blow up my phone with texts, asking me to come over or hang out with Alph. If I don't answer, she busts down my door and drags me through the town." this got a laugh out of him, and you smiled in kind, thumbing at the edges of the plastic covering of the flimsy thing."If it weren't for her and Alphys, I really don't know where I'd be, though. Didn't realize how boring life could be without friends to come and yell at you every now and again." The subtle lull in your voice caught his attention, your softening expression bordering on something vulnerable. He said nothing, taking it in, letting the silence ride out until you set down the menu, folding your hands on the table and resting your chin on top of them, sighing through your nose. "...to come and remind you that they care."

* * *

  
It almost caught the skeleton by surprise, how easily your energy shifted to something so sullen. There was something in the way you looked at that moment, expression open and tender, that made him pause. That wasn't an expression that sat on your face very often. In fact, it was the first he'd seen. And it made something in him churn with a need to protect it. He could feel gratitude radiated in small waves from your soul, imperceptible to anyone who wasn't paying much attention, but there. Warm and pulsating in the silence. With a sigh of his own, he mirrored your position, boney chin clanking down on intertwined fingers, staring down at his own menu, unsure of what to say. The atmosphere of the place soaked itself into his bones, your presence adding a hint of something more to the mental snapshot of this simple moment in time.  
  
"Hey..." your voice stirred the air in the space between the two of you, just soft enough so that only he could hear. "I'm sorry for being a pile of butts a the clinic all the time. Medical places always stress me out. You were right. I get pretty whiney about things sometimes. I'm not always like that, I just, I dunno." shoulders move upward in a small shrug. "I guess I get overwhelmed a little easier these days. So, I'm sorry about that. And, thanks for getting me out of the house." you sounded so goddamn awkward, so sincere. His mind didn't seem to work properly with you like this. Where was the usual edge and snark? This part of you caught him off guard. It wasn't terrible. Just, new.  
  
The distant music on the speakers washed over the sound of the rain. The warmth of the restaurant and the ebbing cold from the rain making your nose and cheeks a warm shade of pink. You didn't move, just lifted your eyes to look at his and smiled uncertainly. He was going to make a pun, and a good one at that, but for some reason his voice didn't come. He went blank. Electricity pulsed in the center of his soul, and he felt his senses sharpen in that moment. The smell of rain on your hair and clothes, the subtle feeling of your breath on his face from across the small table. The muted sounds of your own gently pulsating soul. The sight of your eyes scanning him, searching for something, looking vulnerable, and thankful, and a little uncertain. The shock grew into a warmth that spread across his bones. He thought you were the most average looking person in the world when he first saw you. Nothing about you stood out. And to a degree, this was still true. Yet... sitting there, across from him in this small yet cozy diner, he felt that perhaps you were anything but. Sans felt himself smile back at you, his own skull tinting subtly with the feeling in his chest.

 _What is happening?_  
  
"s'okay, pal. sometimes bad times get the best of us, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"let's try this all again." one bony hand shifted from underneath his chin, reaching out in front of him. "name's sans. sans the skeleton."  
  
There was that endearing wrinkle to the nose again, but you rolled your eyes and played along, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you, bonehead. I'm _____. _____ the human." after a brief moment of deliberation, you add, "I like food and anything furry and cute."  
  
That grin of his turned mischievous. "just furry and cute? what about cute, but not furry?"  
  
"And just what are you implying, mister skeleton?"  
  
"i'm implying that your tastes might be too narrow for the general public."  
  
"If it pleases the jury, I'd like to exchange the word 'narrow' for 'refined'."  
  
"overruled. not liking cute things without fur is a direct crime against all things cute in the world. you are going to jail for a hundred human years."  
  
"Great, so I'll die being a fucking furry, then."  
  
Another snort and fit of giggles caught the attention of one of the waitresses behind the counter, and she made her way over to the table with a warm smile.  
"Hello there! I didn't see you two come in!" there was a slight southern twang to her voice. "I'm Becca, I'll be serving you today. Do you guys want to start off with some drinks?"  
  
You lifted your head, and the moment between you two vanished. Sans felt marginally irritated at the loss, but lifted his head with a sigh anyway, leaning back in his seat.  
  
"I'm actually ready to order! What about you, Sans? You good to order, or do you need a sec?" Shit. That's right. He didn't think about what to order. He picked the first thing his eyes landed on.  
  
"breakfast special for me. hold the toast." You quirked a brow at that. "and some extra ketchup, if you've got any."  
  
"I'll take the egg special, butter on the toast, and some coffee, if that's okay?"  
  
The waitress jotted both orders down, pulled some silverware from her apron pockets and set them down. "Sure thing! Your order should be done within a few minutes. Coffee will be out in a sec."  
  
Thanking her with a nod, you turn back to him with clear curiosity. "Do you not like toast?" a brief silence, then, "Are monsters allergic to toast? I don't think I've seen Undyne or Alphys eat bread. No wait, there was that one time with the toaster at Alphys' place..." there you went with the rambling again. He couldn't bring himself to hate it.  
  
"nah, just don't like all the crumbs. get stuck in my teeth. hard to get out and stuff. i'll be here for hours trying to wipe them away." Your obvious confusion at this was amusing. "it isn't as easy as just wiping it away. sometimes the crumbs get caught in the spaces between the teeth. or i'll try to wipe them away and they kind of scatter into more inconvenient areas. i don't have as much surface area on these hands without skin on them, you know?"  
  
"Ooooh. So it can like, get stuck in the spaces between your palm and stuff? I don't know about bones. Still, that sucks. Looks like your ideal bread scenario is toast." You grin like a maniac at him, when he looks at you with a smirk. "though maybe that's what you call bread karma, for all your loafing around."  
  
"it's the yeast i can do to avoid it at this point. a real slice of life story, there." you were giddy, trading off puns with a determination he couldn't help but match. Some of the other patrons in the restaurant looked mildly displeased with your sudden outbursts of laughter, but sans could not bring himself to care in the slightest. The sight of your laughter flushed face, the sound of your excited voice, the way you were leaning closer over the table after each successful and awful joke had him riding a high. Those breathy laughs were inches away from his own, sending warm puffs of air across his face, hands only inches away from his own. There was something jolting in his chest again.  
  
_What is it? What is this? If I could only- If I could just..._  
  
It wasn't until the heavy clunk of coffee mugs on the table pulled him out of his reverie that he suddenly realized where he was, how close you were, and how loud you were both being. How easily he got caught up in it all. He sat back with a nervous chuckle, and you did the same, eyes locked onto the two large mugs and big black pot of coffee the waitress had placed.  
  
"You two look like you're having a lot of fun!" she laughed. "Here's your coffee, dear. And some extra ketchup for you, sir. Your food will be out momentarily. In the meantime, try to tone it down a bit, yeah?" she smiled kindly.  
  
"Heh heh, yeah, sorry about that." You apologized, bringing the creme and sugar closer to you from across the table. "We'll be more careful." She nodded and moved to greet another couple who came in and sat at the bar.  
  
"looks like we got a little carried away, huh?" sans popped open the top of the ketchup, filling the second empty mug with it, the wet plop of the thick red liquid hitting the inside of the mug drawing a sound of pure disgust from you. "hey. don't knock it till you try it, kid."  
  
"I have tried it. I absolutely HATE ketchup. Too sugary for me, honestly. It's like, imitation tomato. Like tomato's whorish cousin or something. It's a tomato smoothie, with extra scoops of sin and sadness."  
  
It was sans' turn to snort loudly. "are you telling me i'm drinking sin and sadness then? not the prettiest things to say about my favorite food of choice, but hey. to each their own." he dumped even more ketchup into the mug.  
  
"Ketchup is hardly a food. It's pure, unadulterated grossness. You couldn't power a toy tractor with that stuff." you sipped your coffee, carefully watching him despite your disgust. Sans noticed, feeling his grin widen considerably. Oh, he had an idea. A terrible, awful idea.  
  
"Whatever you're thinking, I don't like it."  
  
_It couldn't hurt to have a little fun._  
  
"i have no idea what you're talking about." he was idly spinning the mug in place. Humor and mischief dripping from his voice, holding back a laugh. Sans was well aware he was acting a bit out of character compared to his usual business demeanor he had held with you in the days prior. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to see how red that face could get. The warmth in his chest hadn't dissipated and it was making him feel a bit spontaneous. Something tangible was there between the two of you. He was a skeleton, not an idiot. Even monsters had urges. Even monsters liked to play around a bit. He leaned his skull on one of his hands, enjoying your suspicious gaze. Just enjoying your eyes on him at all at this moment, really.  
  
"hey. wanna see something neat?" he whispered in a conspiratorial tone, leaning forward the table slightly, pulling his hoodie back up over his head.  
  
You blinked, head swiveling around despite yourself. You lower your mug, leaning over it and nodding. Sans watched those eyes go wide, the pupils dilating in obvious interest at the way his teeth separated, fangs molding themselves into existence, a pooling of magic in his mouth revealing the first peek of a tongue, liking the way that blush deepened when he let the tip of it hang out a bit. Your jaw dropped, hand reaching up unconsciously to attempt a questioning poke at it.  
  
"Y-you... you have a tongue?? Is that something all skeletons can do? It is...real?" you whispered. "Or is it just for show? Can you do normal tongue things with it? Like taste, and um, lick a lollipop or other stuff?"  
  
His left eye socket flared a brief and powerful blue at that. Seeing your throat bob as you swallowed, hands trembling slightly, had him pinning you in place with a hungry look for a few precious moments before picking up his mug and sticking his tongue inside of it. That nice pink color took on a deeper hue. (Stars, he could do this forever). You dipped your head decisively and took another careful, long, slurping sip of your coffee.  
  
"i can use it for normal stuff that most people would use a tongue for. I can taste things with a bit more intensity, however. so I notice the chemicals more in human food." he slurped his own mug, ketchup getting on his teeth. An unattractive gesture from your sound of disgust. Tongue yes, slurping no. He'd make a note of that for later.  
  
"Whoa, really? Like, ALL of the chemicals? Or only some of them? Holy crap, I don't know if I could handle that level of intensity. Could you like, lick someone's face and taste their sadness?" You chuckle at your own joke. But the laughter dies in your throat, when those eye-lights are focused back on your face, blue tongue licking off the ketchup from those dangerous fangs.  
  
"dunno. never tried it before." the way your breath hitched subtly caused the spark in his chest to pulse again. The way your legs shifted under the table with a twitch making that feeling almost feverish. Stars, what is this feeling? Sans didn't understand what it meant, didn't understand what was happening. Couldn't stop himself from murmuring, "want to give it a test run?"

* * *

  
There was a loud choking cough as you nearly choked on your own spit. _Holy shit. HOOOOOOOLY SHIT. No, no no no. This was not a skeleton flirting with you. You are not being seduced by some blue ghost tongue coming from a mouth full of sharp teeeeeeee- HE'S LEANING CLOSER. hoooooly shit. What should I do? How do I even respond to that?! Why aren't my arms working?!! Shit-!  
_  
There was another voice, clearing their throat, the waitress only catching the tail end of the blue tongue peeking out from sans' fanged maw. She set down the plates of food, eyeing your blushing face curiously, before shrugging.  
  
"Here's your food, dears! Hope you enjoy it! Let me know if you need anything else. Don't hesitate to ask!" she smiled.  
Blessed beautiful, sweet distractions. Thank the holy stars above in the cosmos. You turn and smile back, your voice obviously cracking and strained. "Sure thing! Thank you Becca!"

* * *

  
What was he doing out this early on a rainy morning? That was a good question. And one he had been asking himself directly for the past hour as he looked through the windows of the shops downtown, grumbling and huffing angrily into his scarf, clutching the handle of his black umbrella with annoyance. He was supposed to be re-evaluating information back at home. Doing productive, highly important and scientific things with his time. Not dawdling in front of shop windows on a rainy day, trying to decide if rounder things meant they were cuter, or if the fur is what made it cute. He couldn't understand the correlation, but attempted to find some connection anyway. Everything he saw looked hideous to him. Gross, overly sized stuffed creatures of all kinds staring out at him with a soulless kind of reverie he wanted no part of. The wind was too cold, the rain picking up considerably with the time spend wandering this godforsaken downtown hell. Human towns were so confusing. No ounce of structure to these damned streets. He was walking in circles. And for what? For nothing, that's what. He should be going back home. Right now. Right... _now_.  Or  _Now_.  
But he didn't. Just continued his useless pandering in the idea that maybe you'd be even happier with a second or third stuffed animal. It wasn't until he passed the last shop window before all the restaurants that he spotted one that might do for the next time you were in need of some motivation for cooperation. The store, however... was packed with screaming children. An absolute din that rivaled the loud city life surrounding him. To enter in there, was to enter a hell unlike any he had experienced before. He rubbed his face, sighed with resignation, closed him umbrella, and walked through the front door.  
  
"Let's just get this over with. It's for the good of the cause." Gaster murmured to himself. "For science."

* * *

  
You were both able to finish off your meals without further incident. This being due to the fact that food was the one thing that could distract you so completely from anything and everything. So you indulged, humming happily between bites of food and sips of coffee. To Sans' (oddly surprising, even to him), disappointment, you even let that tense moment previously slide after the first few mouthfuls of eggs and diced tomatoes. You only looked up every now and then to inquire about something sans talked about in length involving the underground. He talked about the King and Queen, their separation, his brother, the old bar he'd go to called Grillby's with a living fire monster manning it.  
  
"Hey! I know the guy! I actually used to work at his restaurant! Undyne still works there, but I had to quit since, well. You know. Soul evaluation stuff." you said around a mouthful of egg. "Grillby wanted to keep me employed, but with the news laws set in place, it'd get him and everyone working there in trouble. So I just left quietly."  
  
"jeez. sorry, kid. sounds like you've had a rough time of it." sans really wished he hadn't ordered the breakfast special. This was entirely too much food. To his embarrassment and your pleasant surprise, he shoveled some of the hash-brown into your plate. "help me eat this, will ya? i haven't got the stomach for all of it."  
  
"I knew you couldn't eat all of it. Couldn't lie to me. I can see right through you."  
  
"your words are cutting me to the bone here, kid. i don't know if i have the heart to tell you you're being a bit of a prick about it."  
  
"Oh don't be so anal about it."  
  
"heheh, what? a butt joke? pretty cheeky of you."  
  
"I would say it's more asinine."

The second round of puns was significantly less wired and hyperactive, but went on for the better part of an hour. It was a wonder the two of you finished at all. The waitress came to collect your empty plates after you waved her over with a smile and left the bill on the table before carrying the dishes off to the back. Sans plopped some bills on the little tray, getting up to give it to the man at the bar counter before you could protest. ( _Good thing you didn't too. You forgot your freaking wallet. Probably on the counter next to the mail_ ).  
  
"don't sweat it, pal. i got you this time. my treat. consider it a good will offering from a fishy friend looking out for two people she cares about. And a skeleton offering an official apology for being a pile of butts himself." He said with a nod.  
  
He walked off before you could reply, waving over someone as he stood at the counter. You settled back in your seat with a yawn, stomach full and feeling satisfied. The rain didn't look like it was letting up anytime soon. The still steady drumbeat of rainfall hitting the windows and cement outside with fervor. The sounds of cars speeding by and muted chatter all around you sent you into a daze as you slowly relaxed into your seat. You felt warm, sleepy. You wondered briefly if anyone minded you laying your head down for a brief nap. Wondered if sans wouldn't mind hanging out here for a little longer until your sweater dried more so you could-  
An angry shout snapped you out of your momentary reverie. A man hunched at the counter was glaring accusingly at sans, face twisted in a scowl, red-faced. You didn't understand what was happening, and rose from your seat with concerned confusion. Sans looked tense, bills still in hand, attempting a placating motion with is other.  
  
"whoa, buddy. look, just calm down for a sec. no one is tryin' to-"  
  
"Calm down? You don't get to tell me to calm down, _asshole_. I know you took it. It was right fucking there before you came up. And now it's gone."  
  
What was going on? Why was some guy yelling at sans? You blink a few times, feeling your heartbeat get a little faster at the sudden change in mood. He wasn't tall, just a head taller than sans at most. He was wearing a white collared shirt, and grey slacks. Typical wear for the office workers who would normally occupy the restaurants in this area. Your mind was taking quick inventory, tiny snapshots of the scene unfolding in front of you in a blind panic. He was sneering, body language open, threatening, ready to pounce, almost. The muscles in your arms clenched, putting your weight on your hands, legs feeling a little weak beneath you. There was an ill feeling in your gut. You did not like where this was going.  
  
"kind of a tall order there, accusing a guy you don't know of theft."  
  
"Oh, I'm not accusing a random guy. I'm accusing a _MONSTER_. I'm accusing _YOU_ of theft." He leaned down to glare at your friend. "So cough up my wallet, you piece of shit."  
  
A few heads had turned their way as the feeling of trepidation visibly picked up in the atmosphere. Something wasn't right. It was beginning to draw attention. A part of you wanted to go up to this ass-hat and tell him to back off, but you were rooted in place. If you did that, it might not help the situation. You might just make it worse with your ill temper, with your tendency to take things just a little too far. So you stand there, hands on the table, food churning unpleasantly in your gut, dread slowly dripping like an IV in your veins. A tense silence followed, one of the employees behind the counter disappearing into the back. A few whispers in the background meeting your ears had you quickly scan over your shoulder. Something was just... not right about this. It felt like a block of ice sat heavily in your abdomen.  
  
_Dread. This was a feeling of dread._  
  
"heh." sans chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "you sure you didn't just leave it in your other pants or something? doesn't look like you ordered anything since you got here." he pointed to the soaked suit jacket sitting on the stool next to the man. "and not to be disrespectful, pal. but i wouldn't steal from someone who couldn't afford an umbrella on a rainy day. stealing from anyone in the same spot financially as me is just bad manners."  
  
The man turned red in the face, obviously not anticipating an observant comeback answer. The sneer on his face turned into an ugly look of anger, clenching his fists, eyes darting to the faces surrounding them. It was obvious this guy was up to something. It was also obvious that he was failing at it, whatever it was. That was the look of someone taking stock of what they could use to their advantage. You knew that look well. TOO well. You thought with a shudder.  
  
"why not check your pockets, yeah? i'm sure you just misplaced it. just a little misunderstanding, right?" sans was trying to diffuse the situation.  
  
"You trying to be a smart guy? Wallets don't just disappear out of a guy's pocket, BUDDY. If you didn't steal it, then how'd you get that cash? Huh?"  
  
"i, pulled it out of my own wallet? but i'll tell you what. if you are so convinced it's your money, how about telling me how much is in my hand right now? go on. i'll give you three free tries."  
  
No one was gunna buy this guy's act. They couldn't possibly believe such garbage! Just who in the absolute hell goes into a diner to try and start trouble with a petty theft claim? Is the guy hungry? Down on his luck? Trying to mooch a quick buck out of sympathy? You wanted to feel bad for him. You did. But pulling that crap along with a racist comment had you feeling a little sparse in the sympathy area. This guy needed a fucking boot to the ass. Not a handout.  
  
"How do I know you didn't just take it out of what I already had in the wallet?" persistent little shit. He was going to fight like a brat until he was dragged out, or sans backed out first. "I'll bet you're hiding it until you leave here. Probably gunna buy some shitty drugs for your little friend over there-"  
  
"whoa, let me stop you right there. my FRIEND wasn't anywhere near you. whatever beef you have with me is fine. but you can't just go around making everyone within two feet of you to be a thief." sans pushed the money on the counter, plopping the coins next to the crumpled bills and nodding at the now very nervous looking employee behind it. "it's okay, i'll leave the money here. don't worry, we'll talk it out like good, civilized adults. won't we?" he smiled pointedly at the belligerent man. Something in your chest seized when he rose from his seat, snarled and then pushed sans' shoulder.  
  
"Tryin' to be funny? Listen, I know you stole my goddamn wallet. Monsters are nothing but a nuisance on the surface. You've stolen everything from us from our jobs to our homes. Why not throw a wallet in the mix?"  
  
Was this asshole _SERIOUS_ right now?! He was _projecting_! He was literally using sans as an emotional punching bag and blaming him for something no one had any control over! You felt yourself exit the booth, ready to call this guy out on his shit. But a bony hand coming out and waving you back stopped you from getting any closer. He wanted to handle this his way, before it escalated any further. You didn't like it. At all. It was one thing to feel the pressure of soul values taking over the job market in general. Even have people segregate others because of it. But attempting to start a fight and terrorize random people over your own internalized suffering didn't fix the situation or make it any better. Quite the opposite actually. Nothing more could be done for the already collapsing economy of humans. It was already far out of everyone's control long before the monsters came to the surface. They were just another outlet amongst the plethora of problems already drowning the lives of petulant humans on the planet. There was something about the act of pushing those problems on others and making it their fault that stirred something inside of you. Something that made you want to purge the earth from people like this with a vehemence.

_What? You didn't think that?_

"looks like you've got more problems than a missing wallet, pal. how about you start with the home first, and work your way up from there?" sans sighed. "listen, this isn't getting anywhere. just take a deep breath, and we'll figure out where your wallet got to. i'll help you look for it."  
  
"Empty your pockets."  
  
"excuse me?"  
  
"You heard me. If you didn't take it, then there's no problem. Empty. Your pockets."  
  
"i don't think i like your tone, there."  
  
"You gunna do it, or do I have to check them for you?"  
  
"the only thing i want you to check is your attitude, buddy. let's not get physical here. see? nothing in my pockets."  
  
"Take off your jacket."  
  
"okay, now you're just being ridiculous-"  
  
"How about your little friend? They got anything in their pockets? How do I know you didn't just hand it off to them?"  
  
You startle a little at the mention, narrowing your eyes at the guy in utter disbelief. Why was he trying to pull you into this? He was desperate for something to happen. Wanting some kind of recompense for all this trouble he was causing. It was a wonder that no one had said anything in the middle of this, hadn't tried to stop it. But then... weren't all humans like that? Leaving others to suffer while they watched...  
  
_What? You didn't think that either?_  
  
You shook your head, feeling more than a little put off by all of this. And incredibly uncomfortable that this sleeze-ball was trying to target you as well. Sans appeared to feel the same way, planting his feet a little wider apart, ready to stop the guy from advancing on you if it came to it. They were becoming more and more aggressive by the second. This guy looked a lot like an animal backed into a corner, ready to tear off someone's limb just to get out of this shit show scott-free.  
  
"I don't even HAVE pockets, dude." came your shaky response. It was true. The pants you had on lacked any visible pockets. not a smart choice in clothing, really. But there wasn't much to pick from since a lot of your clothes were lying in a dirty heap on the floor by your couch.  
  
"I know one of you has it. If you won't check, then I'll just-"  
  
"nuh-uh. ain't happening, friend. you aren't laying a finger on them."  
  
"Ha! So they DO have it! You wouldn't be protecting them otherwise!"  
  
"pretty sure it's because you're being a creep."  
  
"What did you just call me?"  
  
They continued to shout at each other, but you couldn't hear what it was. Your mind was beginning to tune everything out as Sans' body crouched lower, taking on a fighting stance. You needed to calm down, needed to breathe. Needed to see the reason behind everything that was happening currently. You needed to breathe and assess the situation. No losing control, no wimping out. It's okay. It's okay. The guy is just a jerk. Most humans were. This was a truth to the surface world you wish you never had to swallow, but it was there. God, this asshole was pointing his gross, grubby fingers at Sans' face, saying terrible, horrible things to him, about him, about his own kind. Those hollow eye sockets didn't appear to have any pinprick lights like they usually did. It was all darkness in there. Hollow... It looked scary. Lonely, almost. You couldn't hear his words, not with how painfully your heart clenched at Sans' expression. At the fact that even just coming out of his house to take your sorry ass out to eat earned him this kind of treatment. It hurt to breathe. To swallow. You wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. He did nothing wrong! He did nothing wrong!  
  
**Stop hurting him.  
**  
Trembling hands filled your vision, your own, as you cover your mouth in a vain attempt to keep your teeth from chattering. Your insides were quivering. Fear. Nervousness. Adrenaline? What was happening? The fine hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Something was going to happen. The intensity of the feeling overwhelming you. What was happening? What were you feeling? It didn't make sense. But it was growing, growing until-  
  
_***His hand shot out and grabbed the skeleton's neck. A stool clattered to the floor, coins following shortly after. His hands were on him. He was trying to hurt him. HE WAS HURTING HIM.*** _  
  
A shock rocketed painfully through your arms and legs, moving you forward faster than you could register in your mind. There was hard contact, firm bone pressed to your side where you shielded them. The offending grip on sans' throat gone, a shout of something leaving your lips, a sensation in your right arm from where you knocked it away.  
Fear. Cold fear. Fingers crawling up the back of your scalp and digging itself behind your eyes, filling your ears with a dull hum. You had hit the man. You had struck out at him. You had physically, _PURPOSELY_ , hit another human being. The realization of what you had done, the thought of what the man might take of it, made your stomach gurgle with the urge to relieve itself. His face said it all, disbelief melting into an ugly hatred, a thorough desire to strike back at you, hurt you, hurt _SANS_. Hurt an innocent. Someone who had done nothing wrong. You instigated something you had no intention of finishing. _Shit... SHIT_.  
  
**~~________________________________  
~~**  
_Mercy_  
  
_\-- >_ ** _Fight_**  
~~**________________________________  
**~~  
The floating image in front of you was brief. Your body moving of its own accord, both hands reacting with violent force, hitting the Fight option. You couldn't flee from this. You couldn't win with mercy, you told yourself. Fight. Just fight.  
The room skewed violently around you.  
  
_Fight._  
  
Gods above, you wanted to vomit right then and there.  
  
**FIGHT.**  
  
fighting meant pain, pain meant primal fear, fear meant you lost control. If you lost control, what would sans think of you? What would all of these people think of you? What would-  
  
**_F I G H T ._**  
  
There was a screaming in your head as you looked around. Could feel the eyes of everyone on you. Shit, you thought, Shit it's happening again. You felt heat behind your eyes, a tightness in your chest. The face in front of you warped into something you no longer recognized, nothing but black scribbles in the haziness of the world that began to hum and buzz around you. Shit, shit, shit! Your breathing escalated. You could feel yourself heaving. The man near the counter warped into something less than human, features no longer recognizable to you.

 ***he's going to hurt you.*  
**  
_What? No, no he wasn't! That wasn't a weapon in his hand. His hands were empty. Stop imagining things._  But it didn't matter. It didn't matter. He was a threat. A threat. A THREAT.  
"Listen here, you little shit. I don't give a fuck what you say. Your creepy little friend here-"  
  
You slapped your hand on the counter beside you, HARD, snarling at him. "Don't call him creepy, you racist fuck! Just where do you get off accusing people of theft just because they're a monster?!" Where were these words coming from? How could you manage such a volume when you were so goddamn _AFRAID_? With how violently you were trembling underneath? How ready you were to empty your stomach right then and there?  
"How DARE you think to touch my friend that way! They've done NOTHING wrong to you!" your vision was blurring. But you weren't crying. Why was everything blurring? "THEY'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!" Your voice was screaming, your teeth groaning in your skull from how hard you clenched them together. Something was taking you over, a feeling of pure, unadulterated, DESPERATION. You grabbed the counter, a nearby bar stool. You grabbed anything that would keep you steady, that would lessen your heaving.

* * *

  
"whoa, hey, _____! it's okay, chill out, kid. this guy isn't worth you-" his words died in his throat when he saw your eyes. They were dark. Darker than dark. Maroon rings of energy around the irises, and leaking out of your eyes, spilling onto your cheeks, your neck. Something wasn't right. Something was incredibly wrong. Your soul power was in full force! He needed to get you out of there! He needed to calm you down! Goddamn it, they didn't have enough information on a Tenacity soul to know how to subdue it in times of danger!  
"hey! hey, whoa, kid, it's okay! c'mon, lookit me." he gently grabbed your hand, prying it from the bar stool, holding it to his chest. "it's okay. you're okay." you briefly flicked your gaze over his features, teeth chattering, energy still spilling, still pooling in those dark depths. Stars, you were trembling so much! "it's okay. it's okay." he soothed, rubbing circles on your wrist and used the other to try and grab your other hand from the counter.

* * *

  
You couldn't speak, couldn't bring yourself to calm down. Something awful was stirring in your chest. Something ugly. Something dark... heavy. Everything swam and slowed. Nothing feeling real anymore. You were losing control. Losing touch on reality itself. Why was everything so blurry? Why were you so scared? What was happening?  
Sans continued soothing you, the office worker scoffing and then laughing. An ugly, derisive, cruel laugh. The edges of your vision got a little darker from that, a cold feeling rising from your gut, up into your chest. Primal. Angry. Terrified. And you had no idea why.  
  
"You tryin' to stick up for that little shit-bag makes you just as guilty." he pointed at sans, the skeleton's expression dangerous. "You and your fucked up little friend better watch yourselves out there. You're lucky there are so many people here. Or I would have turned you to fucking dust for taking my shit."  
  
There was a crackle of something in your chest. But sans just sighed and shook his head. Why did he look so tired? Why was he looking at you that way? What was he doing? Why was he trying to move you? Why wasn't he defending himself? Why?  
  
"c'mon buddy. let's leave. don't pay this asshole any mind." you didn't move despite his pulling. One last weary sigh tore itself from his tired grin. "just let it go."  
  
Something in you snapped. A familiar crackle of energy, of power. One that you hadn't felt in many, many years. Yanking your arms out of his grasp, you turn your viscous gaze to the man, every ounce of your intent focused on him. Angry. Burning. _Lethal_.  
  
"You don't get to sit there and pretend you are better. That you have no fault in ANY of this!" what were you saying? "You wanna call him a thief based on some fucked up principle that since he doesn't belong, he should be targeted." a quivering laugh bubbled from your trembling gut. "You want to make an example of him to make yourself look better? You must want to look like a real fucking hero! Look at you! Terrorizing a complete stranger! Just because you think having a full audience to your shit act can SAVE you." you slammed your hand down on it again, lifting your other hand, pointing viciously in his face. "Because you think that being a bully in a public place gives you a free pass to be an absolute dick to anyone you deem garbage! Well _I DON'T FUCKING THINK SO, ASSHOLE_!"

* * *

  
People were murmuring, some of them whipped out their phones, a few of them shouting jeers a the man and a few at you, some of them curling up in their seats, others attempting to exit the establishment before things got REALLY ugly. Sans felt the tense crackle in the air, knew that you had engaged your own soul power without fully comprehending its ability, and would not back down. For you, at this moment, it was kill or be killed. He had no information, no backup. Nothing. He couldn't do this alone. He had never teleported someone with an active soul power before! He didn't know any adverse effects or consequences! You were snarling, livid, a vision of fury and blood-lust. He could swear there were maroon tendrils spewing faintly from your mouth. It terrified the absolute shit out of him. He could feel his own soul quiver in response. Your tender image earlier shattered by whatever this beast, now in control, was.  
Shaking fingers fumbled with the phone in his pocket as he struggled to unlock it and find the contact that he was sure could help him at this moment. He didn't wait for the dial tone to pin it between his shoulder and cheek, trying again to pull you away from your spot near the front counter. If this went on any longer, something really bad would occur. But what he lacked in information, he at least made up for in connection. If you would not be calmed, you would have to be subdued. And there was only one monster he knew who could hold down the might of literally ten monsters at once.  
The phone rang. Once, twice, three times. Then five. Sans' soul skipped momentarily when the man made a swing at you, pulling your arm hard enough so that his strike would miss.  
  
"Trying to hit me because you know you're wrong, huh?!" Oh fuck him. Shit was getting worse by the second.  
  
"come on! c'mon doc, answer the goddamn phone!"

* * *

  
His phone went off in his pocket. The familiar tone mixing with the sound of passing cars and a distant church bell. The lazy picture of sans' face lit up the screen, and Gaster's face wrinkled with concern. It was highly unusual to get a call from his brother at this hour of the day. Especially outside of work. Something had to be amiss. He flicked the green circle on the screen, bringing the cell up to his ear.  
  
"Hello? Sans?" there was heavy panting on the other end, broken only by a vicious snarling sound and a male voice shouting obscenities in the distance. A lead weight dropped itself into his stomach. There was a crackle of energy fizzling in and out of existence around him. Something was indeed very, very wrong.  
  
"Gas?" sans' voice was desperate, breathless. Panic colored his words with a tightness that made Gaster stop in his tracks.  
  
"Sans? What's going on? What's that noise? Where are you?"  
  
"no time! listen! what did you find out about _____'s soul value power?! I don't care how insignificant! you need to tell me what you know, and NOW!" there was a loud clatter and grunt. "we're kind of on a time budget here!"  
  
"Their soul power? There wasn't enough conclusive evidence to-"  
  
"then give me your hypothesis! hell, i don't care if you make one up!"  
  
"I don't have anything that would even remotely help you! I-!" Another loud crash, and a yelp of pain. He was looking around now, trying to find some kind of answer out in the rain. "Tell me where you are!"  
  
"oh, god. shit, kid, are you alright? hey, look at me. are you- fuck. fuck fuck fuck. okay, just breathe, you're going to be okay." it sounded distant, like sans had dropped the phone, or had it far enough away from him that only shuffling crackled through the speaker.  
  
"Sans? Sans! Can you hear me?"  
  
"yeah! yeah, i can hear you, bro. it's just-"  
  
"Tell me where you are! I'll come find you!" he was already walking forward, no clear direction, but determined nonetheless. "I'm in the downtown shopping district area. How far away are you, and how long can you hold out until then?"

* * *

Contact, hard, brutal on your left cheek as you were struck. Your whole body jerked from the force of the blow. Broken shards. White, sharp. A plate was thrown at you, and you brought your arm up to protect yourself. Sans tried to tug you out of the way again, but it still collided with your left arm, shattering. There was a bit of blood there, not a lot. You had toppled backwards with him, your head connecting with the floor in a way that made his soul skip. He was going to pull you up, check you, ask you if you were okay. But your reaction gave him pause, hands clenching in the soft fabric of your shirt. Your chest was heaving unnaturally, wheezing, whimpering sounds pulling themselves from your lips, eyes wide with shock, with terror. You were staring at the white pieces on the diner floor, reliving something. Seeing it with a clarity that was causing you to break down. You were on the floor, curled slightly into yourself, mumbling something incoherent. He was a scientist, not a doctor. But he knew enough about trauma and basic mental health to understand that you were going through a panic attack. One triggered by an unpleasant memory. Part of him wanted to question it, wanted to shake you and tell you that it was just a plate, that you weren't dying, that you were fine. You were okay. But he knew in his bones that saying something like that didn't help. 

How often had he woken up in the same state of mind, Papyrus on the other side of it, desperately trying to tell him that he was safe? That Papyrus was alive, and okay? He knew you wouldn't hear it, that you would live through that moment in your mind until the fear released it's grip on you. He needed a way of helping that process along in order to help you through this. He had no idea how, though, unable to silence the less than helpful man near the counter, and doing all he could to keep other humans from trying to crowd you. It was becoming a little too much for one skeleton. But he did what he could, ushering people back, shouting directions on his phone to Gaster, kicking the pieces of broken plate away from your field of view, and threatening to sue that asshole if he didn't shut the hell up.  
You were still heaving, still mumbling, still curled in on yourself, face pale with a sickening sense of panic that sans could do nothing about. In the back of his skull, the question kept repeating: _What the heck was it about a plate being thrown at you that triggered you so badly?_

* * *

  
He's in the diner now, cold air burning his throat, tearing at it without mercy at his heavy breathing. Everything seemed to freeze in place when he opened the door, eyes all whipping his direction as he stood there, feeling his limbs freeze over with a kind of dread he hadn't felt since the time before the core. You were on the ground, maroon energy spilling from your core, soul emitting an unhealthy dark glow. There was a pitiful gasping, wheezing plea murmured again and again. Sans look up at him from where he was knelt on that dirty floor, sockets wide in an obvious panic. It was a shock to his system to see someone so laid back with such an expression.  
  
"i-! i can't get through to them! they're hyperventilating, and i can't calm them down! they can't hear me!" he rose from his spot, reaching out and grabbing the hem of Gaster's jacket. "if they don't calm down, this could get ugly. they're hp is depleting, and i can't figure out why!"  
  
"What?" that got his attention immediately. He focused his energy, reading your stats, taken aback by what he saw. Sans was right. Your hp was draining itself, steadily, like a heartbeat, damage was being dealt with no obvious threat. The air around you warped and twisted, your trembling body nearly engulfed in that mephitic energy. You were suffering, something clearly tearing away at you from the inside. Although he had no clue what. "What happened?" Gaster demanded, stepping into the diner completely.  
  
"a fight broke out, some human accused me of stealing something, they stepped in to protect me", there was a loud grunt to the right, Gaster only eyeing the pinned human briefly before looking back to sans. "there was a scuffle. nothing too bad, the guy just shoved me. that got _____ mad, and they started shouting at the guy. I was going to try and stop them, but the guy hit them, and then threw a plate. i couldn't move them away in time and now they're, well!" he made a vague gesture with his hands at your hunched position on the floor. "i can explain the rest in depth once we get them the hell out of here. but this needs to be dealt with. quickly."  
  
"He _STRUCK THEM_?"  
  
"Gas, _PLEASE_."  
  
It wasn't the time for this. He knew it. But gods, did he just want to throttle the asshole for laying hands on someone like that. On YOU like that. It made him shake with the need to shout. To do something he knew he would regret. Yet the insistent tug to his arm reminded him of what was important. The human was currently pinned to the ground by two other people, no longer a threat at the moment. There were more pressing matters to attend to.  
It seemed a lot of the diner's customers had become concerned for your well-being as well, many of them holding items they thought would help you. A glass of water, paper to fan you with, someone had some tissues, another person had their cell out, hand poised over the call icon, ready if you needed to go to a hospital. They were all frozen in place, wide-eyed and uncertain as they attempted to give you enough space so as not to upset you further. Though he did appreciate their honest concern for you, he waved them away, making sure everyone was clear and out of the way before he knelt down, carefully reaching for your hand.  
It was if you were struck, your entire body jerking away from him, body spasming with a vain attempt to get up and run. It only had you sprawled out on the floor on your side, legs twitching, shifting, attempting to find escape. Your eyes were hazing over, your HP down to 1, the invisible enemy assailant nowhere in sight. Sans inhaled sharply behind him. He had no time left, no room to think. He seized your arm, dragging you back into a sitting position. You were screaming, shrieking in terror. It echoed in the small diner, reverberating with fervor. Your legs started kicking out with renewed vigor, but he held tight to your arm, pulling you to him. It was now or never.

* * *

  
_Why are they all so angry? Why are they so mad? You stand in front of them, feeling too vulnerable. Too small. There are shadows shifting in your vision. They are screaming at you. Their words are cutting at your resolve. You are opening your arms, trying to placate the situation, trying to get them to listen. Trying to convince them, to prove you care. Everything is so loud, the world too bright. There are people sitting at the table, watching. There are smiles behind their eyes, reveling in your misery; glad it is you instead of them. They pick something up, smashing it on the ground. They pick up another, aiming it at you. It shatters next to your head, the sound ringing in your ear. Your arms are up, hiding yourself, shielding your face. Everything is quiet for a few precious moment until loud, thudding footsteps approach you. Too fast. Too aggressive. Hands are grabbing you, hurting you. Striking out at you. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.  
_  
_Why aren't they stopping?  
_  
_Why are they so mad?  
_  
_It hurts. It **HURTS. IT HURTS.**  
_  
_You love them. Why are they hurting you? They are mad. You did something wrong again. There is a dark room. Your leg is bleeding again. Purple flowers blossoming on your skin. Your body is too small to fight back. Your face hurts so much. You love them.  
_  
_It hurts. But they didn't mean it. They were just stressed out from work. Tired and hungry. It's okay. It would be okay._  
_You love them.  
_  
**_T H E Y D I D N ' T M E A N I T .  
_ **  
_Clattering shapes on the floor beneath you. Broken shards, broken promises, broken family, broken bonds. Don't move. If you move, they'll get be angrier. Don't move. Hold still. Lie still. Don't make a sound. Don't scream. Don't cry. Don't move._  
**_It hurts. It hurts..._ **

* * *

  
The entire world around you was spinning, warping, garbling and pulsating. A gross, sickly beast that threatened to overtake you. You were aware of your fragile body. Of how your limbs locked, heavy and quivering. Nothing was real. It wasn't real. They couldn't be real-  
  
_DOn't move! Don't move don't move don't move god please don't move don't move don't move-_  
  
Something grabbed your arm. you fought the urge to shriek with sheer terror with little success. something agonizing and primal tore from your lips as you yanked away from the grip, hard. It didn't loosen or let go. You were sure there would be bruise there, later. You didn't care. You had to get away! Had to, before they hurt you. Before they put you in a dark room, before they threw you to the ground, before they picked something up and-!  
Hands grabbed your face, a voice, deep and commanding shouting your name. The touch was like something clicking into place in the back of your mind, shifting the images in your trance. Everything buzzed, shifted, vibrated. Until a face formed in the chaotic din of the world around you. That face was familiar. Long scars traveling up one side of the ghoulish skull, another snaking down toward the top of the mouth. The touch of those hands was familiar. The voice was a ringing bell of safety, of solidarity in your screaming mind.  
  
"..d-doc?" you choked out, tears spilling without any sign of stopping. You say it again, sudden realization clicking into place. "Gaster! Doc! I-! They're-! I just-!" the world hummed again all around you as yet another wave of panic struck you.

* * *

  
He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to calm you. Familiar, something familiar! You needed something familiar! He grabbed your chin, tapped twice underneath it, and said, "Look up." with as much strength in his voice as he could muster. To his surprise, you obeyed, and he put one hand on your heaving chest. Sans looked over dubiously, obvious anger coloring his voice.  
  
"is this really the goddamn time for a check-up, Gas?!"  
  
"I know what I am doing, Sans." he replied curtly. "I need you to take a deep breath in. No, listen to me. Look at me." Wild eyes locked on to his, pupils retracting in fear, shifting and blinking rapidly. "Good. Don't take your eyes off of me. Listen. It's just me. It's just you. Deep breath in... in... and, out." He let out a breath of his own for emphasis. "Again, one more time. Big, deep breath in, nice and slow. Good. Now hold it."  
  
He applied pressure to the front and back of your chest, as if you were back at the clinic, doing another routine check-up. The gesture appeared to calm you, slowly, but surely. Your heartbeat thumped wildly in your chest, sending small vibrations into his hands. He worried it might give out, leaving you nothing but a motionless heap on a dirty diner floor in a shitty downtown human city. The thought had him gripping you a little tighter. Your HP hadn't improved, but it was no longer depleting. He could work with this. He could do this. YOU could do this. He did his best to stay calm, kept you close, and hoped.

* * *

  
The world began to quiet down, the buzzing no longer prominent, the world no longer spinning, the fear slowly ebbing. It was just Gaster. It was just the doctor. It was just a check-up. It was okay. It was okay...  
  
"Very good. One last time. Deep breath in, in,.... and out. There." He shifted his grasp back to your chin, inspecting your face with an intensity you didn't much mind at the moment. It was familiar. All familiar. "Are you alright now?" he asked finally.  
  
You nodded slowly, still unable to move your arms or legs. But feeling significantly less distant and afraid than before. Something happened. Something that made you black out for a moment. The sound of something breaking. The sound of someone shouting. Pain in your left arm. The vision of a shadow over you. It was terrifying. Utterly terrifying. But you were here. You were okay. You look behind Gaster and see Sans standing there, blatant relief and worry on his face as he stepped forward, removing his jacket and coming over to wrap you in it. It was so warm, the scent of old laundry and ketchup and damp rain clinging to it. Gaster moved away as the shorter skeleton knelt before you, his face filling your vision. Everything blurred once more, your heart aching with something that made you want to disappear all over again. There was such agony in that expression. You felt like a lost soul wanting to be saved from a living hell. Sans moved closer, letting you bump your forehead against his. You were mumbling pitiful apologies through sobs as he helped fit your arms through the sleeves and zipped you up in the hoodie. Small shushing noises came from him, bony hands rubbing your arms soothingly as he murmured reassurances to you. His eye-lights shifted to a calming blue, locking with yours.

* * *

  
It seemed like everyone in that diner went quiet with the display, many of the patrons glaring angrily at the offending man that was still on the floor, one of the people subduing him now sitting on his back, pinning his arms behind him. (A little too late, Gaster added absently). The manager, who had come from the back at the noise, looked like he was about ready to shout at them, but Gaster glared at him pointedly and shook his head. Anymore shouting would put you over the edge again. With a subtle nod back, he picked up the phone and began dialing. Gaster looked back over to you and sans. He had gotten you upright, but you still curled into yourself, hugging your arms to your body tightly. You looked so frail, so afraid. Your normally annoying and boisterous nature made small by an act of cruelty. There was a truly powerful clenching in his chest at the sight. Something that stole his own breath away with a vile indignance of an almost insurmountable intensity. Towards this human, towards the logic of humans as a whole, towards anything and everything that would have caused this. Without a second thought, he removed his own scarf, kneeling in front of you, wrapping it around your neck, the hood from sans' jacket still covering your head protectively from the world around you. Dark eyes blinked at him, shame and guilt crossing those tear-stained features.

"I did something wrong again..." you whispered into the cloth.  
  
His own expression softened, hands drifting to wipe away the wetness on your cheek. Lingering longer than intended. Something flickered in that expression. Something shared between you two, secret, tender. Stars, what he wouldn't do to protect this little shit of a human in front of him. Troublesome or not. He looked back at the manager on the phone and said,  
  
"I trust you'll handle it from here. Please ensure that this man is dealt with properly."  
  
He didn't have time to wait for authorities. Didn't have time to hash out the smaller details of the fight. You needed to be somewhere safe. Away from this place. He stood and grabbed your hand securely in his. Sans repeated the same gesture with your other, and all three of you walked out onto the sidewalk, and down the street, leaving the scene far behind you, walking without direction in the cold morning rain.

* * *

  
The world blurred with movement. Your eyes were on your shoes. One step, two steps, three steps. Count them. Focus on something else. You're okay. Okay... You take a breath, and chance a look to your right.  
  
Sans' face looked like the epitome of misery. Of pain. His eyelights locked on you so intensely, you couldn't help but pause, Gaster noticed your movement, following suit. Those once lazy, grinning features, crumpled. There was a weariness to them, a sense of sorrow. Something you knew with an aching clarity in your soul.  
  
"you... didn't have to fight back. humans have been like this since we... we're used to it, you know? why did you-?" he was struggling. "what happened to you back there?"  
  
"Sans, please." Gaster's voice was soft, barely a whisper.  
  
Your lip trembled, your grip too tight on those bones. You didn't have words to express what you wanted to say. But you tried anyway. You threw your arms around him with a huff, squeezing him as tightly as you could manage, trying with all of your might to protect him with what little strength you had left in you.  
  
"Monster's aren't our enemy!" you were sniffling, you knew you were shouting, again. But it came out in a croak, too hoarse to muster any real volume behind it. "You haven't done anything wrong! Nobody did anything wrong! You didn't deserve that! No one should EVER talk to you like that!" Gods, it was so hard to breathe, now. How could a heart hurt so much for another? It bled for these monsters, the beings that showed you kindness in a world that spared you none. "I can't let them say that! I can't let them do that! I don't want to let it go... I don't want to let that go..."  
  
There was a faint pulsing to your soul that caused your body to glow. You were clinging to those feelings of happiness that monsters had given you. You were clinging to a reason, to a cause. You had a real love for the ones you called your friends. Felt a need to fight for them, to protect them. It drove you forward, forcefully, and with a blind fury. You felt the injustice of how humans treated monsters. Wanted to vindicate it from existence, and find a way to make it right. Seeing him so hurt by all of this in those brief moments in the face of such cruelty made you ache with a helpless anger. A need to heal. A need to fight.

* * *

  
Your arms were wrapped so tightly around his brother, that Sans had to readjust himself, wrapping his own arms around your waist to steady you as you shouted bitterly into his shoulder. All of your anger spilled out in that moment, Gaster realized, was not from a place of blood-lust or fury, but from a place of pain. From a place of empathy.  
  
He reached out, and rubbed your back, letting his brother return your hug, burying his own face in the crook of your neck, trembling. A tender warmth alighted in his chest at the sight. He reached out his other hand, patting the skull next to yours affectionately as well. Gaster was not one to show such vulnerabilities willingly. In fact, he would admit that it was an awkward sensation for him. But at this moment, stuck downtown out in the cold, too early on a Saturday morning, he could let himself indulge openly in it just this once.  
  
Nothing was said between the three of you. Just a long, mutual moment. Both of you separate after a time, you rubbing you eyes and nose vigorously, Sans bumping his forehead against yours gently for a second time. Gaster gently took your hand back in his. Sans taking the other. The two of them had not known you long. A week at best, possibly. Yet here they were, holding you together in a time of need. Monsters truly were odd. So little time had passed, and it was clear that they cared deeply enough about you to willingly put off their own work to come and find you. It was an achilles heel, to be certain. But at this moment, Gaster couldn't find the logic in caring or thinking too deeply upon it. You were there, hand in his, and you were safe. That was all that mattered right now.  
Gaster opened his umbrella and the three of you huddled beneath it. He was checking his phone, looking up occasionally at the street signs as he attempted to figure out where they stood in relation to a familiar land point. Sans murmured something about you needing dry clothes, and that your apartment was somewhere close by. It seemed a better tactic than wandering around without a clear idea on where to go. With a nod, he let Sans lead the way back, carefully checking on you from time to time. The three of you were at the crosswalk again, when you finally decided to speak.  
  
"Thank you..." you say hoarsely. "Thank you, for all of this."  
  
"s'okay, kiddo. we've got you." sans gave your hand a squeeze.  
  
"Think nothing of it." Gaster said.  
  
The two of them knew they would not hesitate to do it again, if the time came for it. Yes, monsters were very strange indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus criminey jim-jims, the absolute outflow of support here is filling me with DETERMINATION!!!  
> I just want to thank you all again for being so absolutely wonderful and continuing to read this! Your constant support and feedback makes me want to do better at life! 
> 
> I HOPE YOU'RE ALL HAVING A LOVELY AND WONDERFUL SATURDAY!!! REMEMBER TO EAT A GOOD MORNING MEAL AND GO OUT THERE TO KICK ALL THE ASS.


	5. Murphy's Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crap! I'm so sorry for the late update! Car troubles and finances and such. Adulting is a load of steamy garbage in the sun. This chapter is a little more slow paced, so bear with me dears! Thank you for all of your patience and support!  
> Also!  
> WARNING WARNING WARNING!!!!  
> This scene contains an incredibly graphic depiction of gore, and animal death. It is small, and will be marked with a line of ********, so that you can skip it if you'd like. It is meant to portray the horror that the characters feel, and is in no way required of you to read it if you do not want to. Stay safe, my dears!

He was pacing the floor, tugging at the rim of one socket, the sound of the shower going across the room, yellow light from the overhead fan casting deeper shadows on those features. Gaster sat on the couch, dusting crumbs off the cushions as he sat in silence with his clearly anxious brother in front of him. The apartment was... messy. But not messy in the sense that it was unbearably dirty or even unpleasant. It was just dingy, the carpets a bit worn and dirty with age. One of the blinds on the windows broken and hanging at an odd angle. There were used cups sitting on the end table by the couch, some odd circle looking oats in a box sitting on the floor. It looked as if this person had vacated the room without properly cleaning up. An early morning start, by the looks of it. Sans' dark blue sneaker kicked at a cup on the carpet, doing nothing to rouse him from his muttering.  
  
"You are going to create a rut if you don't sit down and stop your nervous pacing, Sans."  
  
He looked over, still tugging at the rim of his socket, a grimace set on those features. If ever there was a moment when Gaster felt his own sibling was near his mental breaking point, he would think now would be that time. His teeth kept separating, those fangs of his clicking together loudly in the air between them. It made his own jaw hurt at how god awful the sound was. It was any real wonder how Sans still hadn't cracked his own bone with that much force. But he said nothing about it, just shook his head, and let him glance at his phone screen nervously. He had made a point not to look at it up until now, afraid of what the time would be, and not being very keen on hearing the telltale ringtone that would signal the dreaded 'check in' from his frightening friend.  
  
"what are we supposed to tell them, Gaster. what in the hell are we supposed to *tell* them??" he was scraping at his neck bones. The sound nearly setting his own nerves on end. "the head of the research department is going to expect answers before the end of the month. i thought we had something, but that. THAT. what the hell was that?? if that's what we're expected to figure out, we've barely got the time to sit around and-"  
  
"The clinic is off limits today, and we don't have any equipment. Even if we did, where do you propose we start? As far as I can tell, you're far too wired to even think clearly, let alone hold a scalpel to the flesh of another living creature."  
  
"you... think we should cut them open?"  
  
"What? No, of course not. It was merely an expression. Monster magic is much more refined that standard human procedures. I only meant that you need to calm yourself now before you do something stupid." Gaster crossed his ankles, leaning back further into the couch cushions. It's going to be some time before you would be out and ready to talk about what had occurred. For now, they were stuck standing in the small excuse for a living-room in your pitifully tiny apartment. It was still raining, despite the hour that had passed since they arrived. His jacket was soaked, and the cold was beginning to set into his bones. With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes and rubbed at the sides of his head. This was all getting to be a bit too much to handle in a day. It wasn't even noon, and he already had an impressive stack of regrets that rivaled a week's worth of work. He hadn't signed up for all of this. Yet here he was. Well, no use dwelling on it.  
Sans made an odd noise in the back of his throat, the room delving into another spell of silence, before the cushions dipped beside him, signaling his brother had finally gotten off his feet. There was a different kind of clicking noise, now. One Gaster was well aware of.  
  
"Are you doing that thing with your fingers again?"  
  
"you know i can't help it. i'm fucking nervous."  
  
_Click. click. click. CLICK._  
  
"Sans, please. I'm already struggling to fight back a headache enough as it is."  
  
"what if Undyne tries to kill us for this?"  
  
That caught his attention briefly. "And why would she? We've done nothing wrong."  
  
"no, you don't understand. you've never met Undyne. you know how Paps gets when something goes wrong? immediately asks us what we did wrong?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Undyne doesn't ask or wait to accuse. she will pick up this couch, you on it, and toss it out a window. or at me if i'm not on it."  
  
Gaster frowned, taking his hands away from his face. "Who in god's name are we allowing our brother to hang around with?"  
  
"someone very strong and constantly angry. she's going to literally kill us if she finds out some guy harassed _____ at the diner."  
  
"It... really cannot be helped. We will have to tell them the truth, and figure out what to do from there. Or."  
  
"...or?"  
  
"OR. We withold a bit of information, and only give them the bare minimum of information about what occurred."  
  
Sans scoffed, still clicking and flicking the tips of his fingers loudly against one another. "she can sniff out a lie faster than that kid can sniff out food."  
  
"If that's her capabilities then I would find that highly impressive." he mumbled.  
  
They sat in silence once more, Sans opting to jiggle his legs in place, looking down the hall to the left, the light still on under the door, the shower still going. How long had it been? The clock on the wall told him twenty minutes. Not long at all really. But then, it was long enough to make him anxious after debating on whether or not to tell Undyne about what happened. He knew it wouldn't end well if he did. So he had kept his mouth shut about it, only looking down at his phone when he felt it buzz in his hand.  
Shit. Speak of the devil. He flicked the screen, bringing it to life in his hand, reading over her message, fingers dancing awkwardly as he struggled to find something to say. Gaster noticed, heaving a sigh through his nose. He was tired, and this was getting ridiculous.  
  
"This might be a bad idea. But perhaps you should just tell her to come over, and explain it all then." when sans looked over at him, mortified, he simply said, "Damage control could be easier, if we have _____ explain a bit of it themselves. We'll have less of the brunt of it that way."  
  
"for the sake of my ass and yours, i really hope you're right."

* * *

  
The front door was wide open, kicked in the second the lock clicked out of place. She had him in a headlock, hoisting him off the ground, eyes flashing dangerously. It was too fast to register in his head, but his fear was already in high power, a shrieking sound pulled from his throat before kicking wildly, desperate to feel the firm ground beneath his feet again. She was relentless, a strong grip like a finger caught in the maw of an alligator, unwilling to let it go, the sheer force of shaking him around making even Gaster get to his feet in concern for his brother's wellfare.  
  
" _WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED. I TOLD YOU TO TAKE MY BEST FRIEND OUT FOR BREAKFAST AND THEN THIS SHIT HAPPENS?! YOU BETTER START TALKING, PUNK!!_ "  
  
"wait! wait! Undyne, just fucking chill! let me- us, explain! just put me down for a sec here!" Sans hollered, shoes kicking blindly at empty air around him. "it wasn't intentional! no one picked fights! this guy just targeted us and-"  
  
He was let go abruptly, sans letting out an 'oomph!' as his butt connected with the rug harshly. He immediately flopped back, turning on his side and rubbing at his pelvis. Undyne targeted the taller of the three skeletons next, locked onto her target with unrelenting ferocity. His hands shot up in a placating motion, immediately straightening his back and opening his mouth to explain, but she was quicker on the draw, pointing viciously in his face, snarling through her clenched teeth.  
  
"I put my best friend in his care, not yours. But it looks like you're a part of this crap too. So start fucking talking or you're going to need a walker by the time I'm done with your bony ass!"  
  
"Please calm down, you are being a bit irrational here."  
  
"I'll calm down when I get some answers! My friend was almost attacked, and you morons didn't have them under your care for more than a couple of hours!"  
  
"UH, UNDYNE?" came Papyrus' nervous voice from the doorway, his tall form still standing out in the hall, looking around the place, uncomfortable. "I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE ANSWERS JUST AS MUCH, BUT PERHAPS WE SHOULD DO THIS BEHIND CLOSED DOORS? WE MIGHT BE DISTURBING SOME OF THE HUMANS IN THIS BUILDING."  
  
"I don't give two shits about what other people are thinking right now. I want answers. NOW. Or someone's getting a spear up their-"  
  
"im with paps on this," sans groaned from the carpet at her feet. "i don't think _____ wants their business out there for everyone to see or hear."  
  
She gave a scoff at that, striding into the apartment, kicking off her shoes and sitting herself angrily on the floor, arms crossed. Papyrus walked in moments afterward, two brown bags in his arms as he moved to kick the door shut behind him. He took a careful step over Sans' prone form, nodding to Gaster with a smile before looking around, and setting down his haul on the low coffee table in the corner.  
  
"Alright, we're behind closed doors. So start talking."

* * *

  
The hot water on your skin felt good, relaxing your overly tense muscles as you knelt beneath the stream of water from the shower head. You had already washed your hair. Twice. Scrubbed your body. Even went so far as to brush your teeth. You didn't know why your mind resulted in this weird self-grooming when it came to copious amounts of anxiety or stress. It was more self-destructive when you grew up, having you utterly familiar with the ways our own body bled and bruised beneath your own cruel administrations. It seemed to stop after you left your hometown. Left the people who stood over you in their sadistic glee for so many painful years...  
You blink back water from your eyes, rocking back and forth slightly. This really wasn't the time to be thinking about this. Thinking about them did nothing to help you right now. Did nothing for you at any time of day or hour, really. You could just forget, and it would be like none of it ever occured. Like shutting off a light in a dirty room, sullied with stains and black handprints on the too-white walls. You could just shut off the light, close the door, lock it, and leave it. Pretend it wasn't there. Forget about the things that happened in there. Forget it all... just forget...  
Something pulsed around you, a thrumming energy that flashed briefly behind your eyes as you stood, bracing yourself against the slick tiles of the shower walls. _That's right_ , you tell yourself, _If I never say anything, it's not like anyone will ever likely find out about it. I can just keep it to myself. Pretend it's not there. I'm different here. It's all different here. I don't need to remember. I don't need to drag that here. To bring it into my life. It's okay to just... forget._  
Funny, how everything dimmed for a moment. How the water seemed to warp and freeze for just a split second, before you shake your head, water droplets flying in all directions, clinging to the glass of the shower door. Funny, how your head swam a little, body swaying a bit as you fumbled to turn the knob on the wall, cutting off the water entirely. The sudden stillness of the air around you brought you back. The buzzing of the light above the sink in the small bathroom reminding you of your reality.  
You didn't want to get out and face them. Not just yet. But then, if you had it your way, you'd never really be ready anyway. So this may as well happen. With resignation, and a heavy amount of trepidation, you push open the door and step out onto the cold tile of the floor, yanking the green towel from the rack on the wall. Your own face reflected your weariness under the harsh lighting. God. You looked like shit. _Shit that got stepped on by a large and particularly ugly donkey. That christ sat on. While eating a taco. Or maybe pizza. No, tacos. Tacos, jesus, donkey, shit. Better place a halo of light around that, for artistic effect._  
You let your mind fly off on the tangent, doing nothing to stop it as you dried off, shoving a leg into your favorite fleece pajama bottoms, taking your time before going back out into the living room to face those two, and the memory of the early morning breakfast incident.

* * *

  
"So this... thing happened, and you can't figure out what triggered it, because this is a new kind of soul?"  
  
"more or less yeah." sans said from the floor, head resting in one hand. "we've got literally nothing that can help us understand what happened to _____. doing anything at this point would be counterproductive, since our information is bordering somewhere between assumptions and ignorance."  
  
"THAT DOES NOT SOUND... VERY COMFORTING."  
  
"nah, sorry Pap. it's the truth, but is still sucks. I know."  
  
"Regardless," said Gaster, leaning forward on his knees, hands clasped loosely together. "What happened today needs to be kept under wraps. Based on the reactions of the humans in the diner, no one else witnessed what you described to me, Sans."  
  
"humans aren't all that perceptive." he mumbled. "thank goodness for small miracles."  
  
"Forget that shit!" Undyne snarled, hand coming down on the feeble looking coffee table she sat near. "How is _____? Did they... Are they alright?" There was deep hesitation in her features, something unspoken hiding, dancing around the perimeter of her words. Something she couldn't quite bring herself to ask. And everyone in the room felt it.  
  
"For now, they are in their usual state mentally, and their demeanor is slighty, ah..."  
  
"they're a little shaken from what happened. they're currently washing up and trying to calm down." sans provided.  
  
"We haven't been able to properly question them about the incident. So when they come out, please be sure not to-"  
  
There was shuffling coming down the hall, your figure, clad in comfortable pjs and sporting a towel draped over your head, appeared in the doorway to the small living-room. There were two extra faces there that you didn't remember inviting over, the small room feeling suddenly smaller with how little space there was to maneuver.  
  
You blink owlishlly in confusion. "Undyne? Papyrus? When did you guys-?"  
  
"HUMAN FRIEND!!!"  
  
"PUNKASS!!!"  
  
They both sprung from their seats on the floor, a coil of bones and scales that erupted into flailing limbs and shouts. It was too much too soon, your body retreating, hands coming up to cover your head defensively. The floor shook a bit beneath you, a strange rattling happening inside your head as you fought to keep the fear away. These were your friends, they would never hurt you. Not ever.  
  
_Not yet._  
**sHUT UP.  
**  
They stopped, looking at your hunched form. Your hands were clenched so tightly, your arms trembling imperceptibly. That didn't sit well in Undyne's gut. That energy, that fear. It didn't suit you. It wasn't right. She took two large strides over, linking her muscular arms around your waist and hoisting you into a bear hug. Not the most effective thing to do in this situation, judging from your obviously tense muscles in her grip, but she had no other way of expressing her care...  
  
"It's okay, _____. It's just us. Just me and Paps. You're okay.It's okay. See?" she pulled back slightly, so you could catch Papyrus' weak wave and guilty look over her shoulder.  
  
"YES! IT IS JUST I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, YOUR NEWEST AND MOST TALENTED FRIEND! WE CAME AS SOON AS WE HEARD WHAT HAPPENED. WE WANTED TO SEE IF YOU WERE ALRIGHT! I EVEN BROUGHT FOOD!"  
  
The mention of food had you relax marginally, your stomach growling loudly in response. That got a smile from them, the etchings of worry dissipating from them both just enough for Undyne to let you down, keeping an arm drapped over your shoulders, leading you over to the coffee table that she had pushed into the middle of the room. Everyone sat around it, save for Gaster, who remained seated on the couch two feet away from it. There was a colorful array of food in large tupperware containers taking up the space of the table, paper plates sitting off to one side of it, with plastic utensils to match. There was spaghetti and some sauce, warm and cheesy looking slices of garlic bread, and one container of mixed vegetables. There was a thermos sitting in an empty spot towards the edge, the smell something you recognized immediately: the golden flower tea that Undyne seemed to love so much. Only ever used in special occaisions. The overhead light of the ceiling fan was yellow, and a little dim, but filled the place with a gentle sort of air, falling on all these faces in a way that made it feel full and warm.  
Undyne was right. These were your friends. People who didn't mean you any real harm. Looking around at their faces, all pointed towards you, wondering, concerned, warm and caring, you felt something well up in your chest. It was no real secret that you were an awkward, often angry individual. That the world certainly got to you more than you cared to admit. Yet right here, right now, you had friends who didn't care about that. Ones that just wanted to be sure you were alright. You move to sit down on a pillow someone had placed on the floor near the low coffee table. Sans caught your look, reaching across and patting your hand kindly. Gaster nodding in kind. Papyrus, the big ol' sweetheart, pushed a plate of food in front of you, eagerly watching your reaction when you stuck a forkful of it in your mouth.  
  
It was... "Oh man. Who made this?"  
  
"THAT WOULD BE THE GREAT SPAGHETTOR AND CHEF, PAPYRUS!" He was beaming, wiggling in place on his knees, leaning towards you, nodding. "IT IS GOOD, YES?"  
  
"Holy shit, Papyrus." you said, shoving another forkful in your mouth. "This is AMAZING. Did you really mix a bit of broccoli with the sauce? Shit, it's so good. Is that CHEESE on it, too???" Food was the quickest way to your heart. And you were very nearly considering marrying this skeleton for his food skills alone.  
  
"YES! IT IS! I USED THE HUMAN INTERNET TO FIND SPECIAL RECIPES! I ADDED A FEW TOUCHES TO THEM, A SPECIAL PAPYRUS FLAIR!"  
  
"Whatever it is, continue doing it. I swear I think I see the gates of heaven right now."  
  
"That place after death that humans believe in, right? With some old guy with a beard?"  
  
"THAT SOUNDS SKETCHY."  
  
"Humans do have odd customs, to be certain." Gaster said, moving to pluck a slice of the garlic bread from the plastic container. "But that is a discussion for another time. I am more concerned with asking you about the details of the diner, and what occurred there."  
  
"getting right down to business, eh, doc?" sans was reaching for a paper plate and some noodles. "as per usual."  
  
"You don't have to talk if you aren't up for it, nerd." Undyne said, her face suddenly serious. "We aren't going to force you."  
  
You swallowed another big bit, thumping at your chest and reaching for the tea to wash it down. A nice cold glass of juice would have been nicer, but the warmth of the slightly sweet liquid hitting the back of your throat had your shoulders relaxing at its familiarity. A small hum of content left you, before you decided to answer.  
"No, it's okay. I'm alright to talk about it, but... I'm going to warn you ahead of time, I don't remember much. Just, being angry. Really, really angry. And then," you move your fork around in a vague motion, "Something. It felt numb before he threw the..." your heart jumped a little, eye twitching.  
  
Papyrus was the first to notice, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder gently. He didn't say anything, his skeletal features moving to express his worry. It was still a weird concept, malleable skulls and monsters and magic. But then, there were weirder things out there in the universe than this. Like black holes and sea monsters... Crap. You were drifting in your attention again. With a shake of your head, you pat the hand on your shoulder.  
  
"I'm okay. Guess its still a little too fresh in my head."  
  
"That could be a good thing, given the circumstances." Gaster hummed thoughtfully.  
  
"okay, i'm going to be the first to step in here and call you a jerk for that."  
  
He looked confused, and quite possibly affronted at the accusation. "I don't think I understand."  
  
"the kid just came from something that triggered an anxiety attack, and you're saying the remembering it vividly right now is a good thing."  
  
"Of course it is. It means we can derive meaning from the experience; gather answers from what occurred. If this was as serious as you described, then we need to figure this out and quickly. Soul power that has reached an unstable level could have dire consequences." he set down the small bit of garlic bread in his hand onto a paper plate. "Or have you forgotten the incident with the last... anomaly?"  
  
Sans' eye sockets went dark, a memory replaying in his head, it seemed. His voice didn't sound like his own, having a hint of something you couldn't place. "This isn't the time or place to bring that up, Gas."  
  
"So you remember, then." he said with a nod. "We need information. Anything at all. Because right now, we are running on assumptions and useless data that leads us nowhere."  
  
"You nerds done talking amongst yourselves? You wanna share your plan with the rest of the class?" Undyne was starting to get aggitated.  
  
"I DIDN'T KNOW WE WERE HAVING A LESSON!"  
  
"Heh, no, Pap. It's an expression human's use. It means Undyne wants them to give us the game plan. You know, let us in on what they're talking about."  
  
There was a tight grin on his face, something passing briefly there before he sighed harshly through his teeth. "i don't have a plan. and neither does he. but i think i know who might be able to help us formulate one."  
  
Well. That was cryptic as fuck.

* * *

  
"But we can test it out, right? Like, how Kindness gets a reaction from the soul of those around it? What if we just, do a side by side test or something like that?" Undyne said, leaning over her phone, now placed in the center of the table. Alphys was still on the screen, her face twisting with worry.  
  
"W-well, the issue with that would be that the environment isn't properly controlled. A-and anything could happen to the soul if it's just, out in t-the open like that." she was adjusting her glasses, looking somewhere off camera. "I don't think it would really be safe..."  
  
"Safe, shmafe. They're among friends! Two pretty bad ass ex-royal guards and two scientists. It couldn't hurt to do one or two small experiments, right?"  
  
"I suppose not, but I-I don't see why you're so hard-pressed to do this now of all times. You could just wait until tomorrow when the clinic is open, you know."  
  
Sans scratched the back of his head, Gaster leaning back with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. Undyne eyed them both, then looked to you again. "Ah, about that. See, something happened today, so Sans and Gaster want to test the residual energy before it's gone. We don't know any safe way of doing that. And you're usually the one with the more, ah, creative approaches?"  
  
Alphys narrowed her eyes at that, catching a gleam of light on the rim of her glasses as she inclined her head suspiciously. "Creative? What does that mean?"  
  
"it means, Alph," sans quickly said, leaning into view of the camera, "that you think outside of the box. and we could really use a brilliant idea right about now, before our window of opportunity is closed off."  
  
There was a long moment of deliberation. Alphys mumbling to herself, Undyne watching the screen intently, Sans flicking his eyes over to Gaster, Gaster staring at the popcorn ceiling, Papyrus leaning his head in his hands, confused but attentive. And then there's you, just sitting there in your over sized NASA shirt and trademark fuzzy pj bottoms, moving your feet back and forth idly, leaning back on your hands. You had no idea what they were planning, and really, you didn't like it. It made you feel tired just thinking about more tests. But it wasn't going to be a grueling one, and Undyne was too curious to let it go, wanting to see her best friend's badass soul value power in the flesh.  
  
"I s-suppose," she began, her nervous voice coming back over the speaker, "That you could technically have Sans and Gaster pull the two souls into 'combat', and see what actions they can take, and what those actions effects could have on another soul... B-but we have no real way of kn-knowing how that works on the surface world. So you would need to be extremely careful-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah! We'll totally be careful! Promise!" Undyne nodded her head quickly. "What should we do? Combat?" you gulped nervously at that. "Or, like, strategy and stuff?"  
  
"You could technically use both your soul, and Papyrus' soul for this. See how the soul reacts to each one individually, and then both at the same time, this way, you can have multiple sets of data for the test."  
  
Gaster had moved to get up, already taking inventory of the small living space. Sans knew what he was thinking, and stood from the floor as well, going over to help him shift the couch a little further backward. You tucked your feet under yourself, letting them mull about and move things, hearing their quiet conversation as they did so. Alphys was giving the rundown of what should be done, Papyrus now leaning over the phone, excitedly asking what his job in all of this should be. It was funny seeing them like this. All together in one spot, in this spot of all spots. Your crappy apartment spot. Like majestic horses in a tiny carousel pit. Lined occasionally with cheerios. Ah, shit. You should have vacuumed. Oh, now wait. You never bought a vacuum. _Heh, jeez. That really sucks_. _Vaccum jokes are funnier out loud. I kinda want to tell them. But they probably won't hear me. Nah, looks like Undyne has the phone back on her ear. Why is Papyrus taking off his scarf? Ah, oh geez. They're all looking at me._  
Undyne thanked her girlfriend, giving her a quick and loving farewell, and a promise for a romantic date night after work before turning her gleaming, toothy smile on you. Gaster rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, revealing ghoulish skin, and hands without wrist joints. Papyrus stood tall, and ready. Sans shrugged off his own jacket, cracking his neck with a sigh. _Shit_ , you thought. _Is this what pizza dough feels like before it's tossed around by some sweaty guy behind a stove?? Because this is fucking terrifying. Pizza dough has it tough. And I am not a very pliable person. Whatever gods are up there, fucking save me._

* * *

  
"This isn't working." Undyne said finally, after 45 minutes of letting Papyrus toss bones at your soul. "Let me try something! It's my turn!"  
  
You were exhausted. Downright angry at the fact that this had to be a thing, and shouted, "Does this really need to be done right now? Can't we just forget about this and go with doing tests at the lab tomorrow? You know, where I'm not in my fucking pajamas and ready to pass out? This is ridiculous!" You stomped your foot, you couldn't help it. You were feeling petulant. Petulant in your pajamas. A pajama pissy-fit. Peeved in Pajamas. That sounded like a good band name.  
  
Your best friend, in all her scaly glory, jumped into the controlled area, her body lighting up with her own soul magic. "Not a chance, squirt. Something serious happened to you today, and from what these two quacks say, it's the only time they've seen it come out."  
  
"Well why does that matter?! It's not like it even-"  
  
"You need a job before the end of this month." She cut in cooly, spear materializing in her hand. "Your last paycheck isn't going to cover this place, _____. I checked. You're going to be short. There isn't any way you can afford another month here." Her voice was steady. Quieter than usual. The truth of what she said, punching you hard in your gut, sending sharp icicles through your chest, the cold of it spreading down your arms and legs.  
  
You did not want to talk about this right now. Not in front of them. "Undyne." you warned, your tone still hanging on an edge of anger. This wasn't the time. _Gods, not now. Please not now._  
  
"You never ask for help, you know. And that just pisses me off. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, or even make you look bad." The room went deathly quiet, her eyes not meeting yours as she tossed you a spear. "...we're best friends, aren't we, _____?"  
  
No one said a word. The room still filling with her bright light, the spear in your hands warm to the touch, her magic something familiar in your grasp. You felt embarrassed. Ashamed. Lost. Looking down at your bare feet, you think, ' _I wish everything were easier_ '. Some small, vain part of you thought that this could go on without trouble, letting yourself be pulled around by two scientists, and still keep up your daytime appearances with your only two friends in town. You thought you could ignore it all, and let it run its course. Forget the looming responsibilities for a while, hoping they would sort themselves out eventually. But, of course, they never did. They never would. Not if you didn't at least try to fix them first. You felt useless. You felt like a goddamn child. The carpet is blurry, and you're ready to toss the damn thing to the floor, before a small, floating option pops up in front of you. Everyone else sees it too: **ACT** , it says.  
Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. You... you did it! Something actually came up this time! You were wiping one free hand on your pajamas nervously, unsure if you should hit it or not. Everyone seems to nod, motioning for you to go ahead and choose it. One shaking hand comes up and touches it briefly, the bright orange glow illuminating your world for a second before two options come up.  
_**__________________________________________________**_  
**_*ARGUE_**  
  
**_*PLEAD_**  
**__________________________________________________**  
  
Well those aren't helpful. You scrunch your nose at them, suddenly unsure of how helpful this actually was. But Undyne is crouched, ready, teeth no longer showing, serious by all means of the word. You don't know which to choose, your eyes darting around helplessly.  
  
"go on, kid. pick the one you feel more inclined to do." that tone of his was careful, slowly spoken as he kept the confined area up with his magic, one glowing blue eye focusing on the options laid out before you.  
  
"More inclined to do?" you parrot back, stuck in your own head about the subtle inclination of the phrase. 'what you feel more inclined to do...' you close your eyes, and forced yourself to stop thinking, attempting to let whatever force led you here, take control. It was a long, drawn out pause that had you feeling quite stupid before something clicked in your mind, your chest burning suddenly with power, your eyes opening and shooting down to your now burning palm. In your absent mental state, your hand had drifted without you realizing it.  
**__________________________________  
**  
_You chose to **ARGUE**._  
**__________________________________  
**  
Words were tearing out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, "What do you know of friendship? What kind of friend just goes and looks through my finances to determine whether or not I'm capable of keeping myself stable?" that was not your voice. It was so cold. Dripping with something akin to disdain. It hurt to see Undynes face drop into shock that way. It hurt so much to have it come out of your mouth like that. It hurt so, so much to see the awakening sparks of fury in those deep, glinting eyes.  
  
"I was worried about you! How am I supposed to know to help you when you won't even TALK TO ME?!" a bright colored spear was flung at you, your body ducking out of instinct, barely avoiding the grazing spearhead on your cheek.  
  
You were moving again without your knowledge.  
**______________________________________________  
**  
***ACT**  
  
**_\-- >_*ARGUE**  
**______________________________________________**  
No, no, no, please stop this. "Because maybe I don't need your fucking HELP! Maybe I can actually handle this on my own without someone taking PITY on me and giving me a HANDOUT!!" you let fly the spear from your hand, deliberately aiming at the spot between her feet. It hit the ground with a sickening crack, the edges of that pure energy now tainted with the dark stain of maroon where you held it.

 **______________________________________________  
**  
***ACT**  
  
**_\-- >_*ARGUE**  
**______________________________________________  
**  
"Maybe I just don't trust the help of others, because it's just a stupid tactic to get me to rely on them, so they can hold it over me later! So I can FEEL like I'm safe, until it's all ripped out from underneath me AGAIN!!" god, your jaw was hurting again, you were clenching your teeth so hard. You were trying to swallow the words that did not seem to stop coming. "I don't NEED your help! I don't need _ANYONE'S HELP_!!" Your arms were hurting for some odd reason, and when you looked down, they.... seemed to be missing. Engulfed in weird, dark flames of energy you couldn't describe. There was no motion in that fire; just pain shooting up the muscles of your arms and into your chest. " _I DON'T NEED ANYONE!!_ " you scream, unable to stop yourself.

* * *

  
Undyne was on edge, lowered. Much like a tightly coiled copper wire, ready to spring forward and deal some serious damage to whatever nose decided to poke its way near it. It was so odd, to see her so hostile from something as simple as an argument. This didn't seem characteristic of her disposition, from what he had observed. Sans appeared to mimic that hostility, no lights in those sockets, a wide, unfriendly grin splitting his face, the fangs almost forming completely despite it's still clenched position to the lower jaw bone. Hell, even Papyrus looked angry, ACTUALLY angry, bone forming in his hand, energy pouring from his right eye socket. You looked.... lost. Viscious, almost. Maroon tendrils leaking from your eyes, covering your face, spreading like miasma around your feet, flooding the area completely. It was setting everyone on edge. But why? He could not understand what was happening, nor what it meant. But one thing was clear, if it continued, it would only cause more problems. So he dropped his hands, and let loose the barrier that surrounded the two of you. The snapping of his energy surprising Sans enough to bring him back, making him jump slightly at the absence of it. The field was dropped, your soul crashing back into your body, staggering you. Undyne stood, breathing heavily, wide eyes confused, hurt, searching your body for signs of that dark energy. Papyrus was staring down at his hand, covering his right eye with the other, looking distraught.  
It was as if a spell was broken, everyone looking towards one another for some form of validation or answer. He was witness to an event he had never seen before in monsters nor humans. Such a high level of stress causing such a violent reaction... It was troubling, to be sure. Yet incredibly intriguing. It was a golden nugget of data sitting in his brain, gleeful and excited, despite his ethical need to keep it in check so as not to seem inconsiderate. He let the energy of the room dissipate back to a standard before taking long strides over to you, bending at the waist slightly, to be on eye-level with you.  
  
"None of that looked very promising for you, I will admit. But I'm going to ask you a few questions, and we'll move on from there." you looked frightened and guilt ridden as he said that.

* * *

  
The better part of the afternoon and late afternoon had you apologizing profusely, sitting down in front of Undyne, wiping tears from your eyes. You didn't have friends in this town, and she had only ever been kind to you. Never in your time knowing her had you ever meant to be so callous and rude. You loved her, cherished her. She was the one to carry you out of the water when the tides of life became too tough for you to swim against for too long. She was there to help you in those lonely hours when you felt you were no longer worth her time, when you felt you had failed everyone after messing up so often at work. Her and Alphys both had come to your aid and beaten off your demons time and again. This was not the way you wanted to be remembered or seen in her mind. Not hers. Please not hers.  
She only sat there, wiping tears from her own eyes with a snarl, grabbing you roughly and pulling you into a hug, shouting through a cracked and hoarse voice that you needed to learn to trust her more with these kinds of things. That shoving your own feeling deep inside wouldn't cure you of them. Wouldn't save you from them. She was right. She was always right about these things. And you felt stupid. So, so stupid and embarrassed by it all.  
  
"Best friends don't keep these kinds of things from one another." she had told you, holding you at arms length, leveling her gaze with yours. "Best friends fight together, and make it through the tough stuff so they could come out on the other side better for it."

She had chosen to forgive you for your shitty behavior, but you knew from the still fresh look of pain on her face that she would not forget what you said. Would not forget that hurt for a long time to come. This put a proverbial blemish on your friendship, but it was something you would need to work to amend. Not all mistakes were so easy to forget, after all.   
Papyrus, however, hadn't said much, just rubbing at an arm in uncomfortable silence. When Sans patted his shoulder, murmuring something to him, it seemed to calm him a bit, since he came over and hugged you as well, apologizing for wanting to use his 'special attack' against you during the test. You apologized for scaring him, or making him angry as well, and fully admitted to being a stinking, steamy pile of butts about it all. His grimace at the gross imagery made you smile, and he gave you one in kind, hugging you a second time, before moving back to his spot across the table.  
  
After everyone was in a considerably better, (but considerably more unsure), mood, Gaster began firing off questions, pulling out a notebook from his pocket, jotting down bits of information with fervor. He even turned to the others, and asked them the same questions, focused and serious and incredibly intense. It was clear that he was particularly taken with the data he was collecting, but looked physically torn about asking you to do it again, battling with his need to know, and his desire to keep you safe. You wanted to accommodate, but didn't want to ruin your own image anymore over it. You had already run your mouth twice today, once to an asshole, and once to your best friend. There wasn't enough fortitude in your soul today to deal with a third occurrence. Fighting like this drained you in a way that you could feel with a clarity deep down in your bones. This slip up would stay with you for a long time to come. This was a fact you solemnly and silently accepted as you finished off the rest of the tea, now cold in the small thermos cup in your still shaking hands. It felt too stuffy in this place. Your skin heated and itchy and feeling too small, too tight against your shivering bones.  
  
"Hey, ah, I'm gunna open up a window. It's a little hot in here." you set down the cup with a loud 'clack', wincing slightly at the sound, your tone too eager to fill the momentary silence.  
  
It was a lame excuse to change topics, a lame weak attempt to push past the uncomfortable atmosphere threatening to take over the last few hours of your day. Undyne shoved a spoonful of food in her mouth, eyeing you curiously. Yeah, she could definitely tell what you were trying to do. She may be a bit rash, but she wasn't an idiot. This was your best friend, after all. She understood your coping mechanisms, and just nodded quickly. The rain had stopped outside anyway, so it should be alright to let just a little air flow in here.  
  
"I can open it, if you'd like." Gaster said.  
  
"Nah, it's alright. These windows are actually really freaking stupid. The one over there wasn't caulked right, and the lock on it was painted over, and jammed shut." you pointed at the one across the room, facing the front door, and motioned to one behind you in the hall. "This one is probably the only one that opens, besides the one in the bathroom. I actually have to put a fan by the door just to get all the heat out of here in the summer. It's like the inside of satan's asshole in here sometimes because of it." you laugh at your own joke, pulling your feet out from underneath that table and standing up to go pull it open.  
  
"I think the only good thing to come out of this mess is a better apartment with working windows and less shitty neighbors." Undyne said, mouth full of vegetable and bread. "That clinic better be paying you a pretty penny for all of this."  
  
"UNDYNE, PLEASE DO NOT TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL. THAT IS DISGUSTING."  
  
"Yeah, you and me both." you grunt, pulling hard at the window, getting it open with a few solid bangs too the bottom part of the frame. "I'll get myself a nice little loft, with a flat screen tv, and like a million bags of fresh crap like onions and potatoes and feel like a real adult, cook my own meals and-" you looked down in the street, suddenly distracted.  
  
"You? COOK? That's a joke. Last time you cooked, you nearly burned my house down."  
"OH! I CAN COOK! MAYBE I COULD COOK FOR YOU, _____! I COULD EVEN TEACH YOU HOW TO MAKE MY SPECIAL SPAGHETTI DISH!"  
  
You didn't hear them, leaning out the window slightly, and sticking your arm out, pointing excitedly. "Look! There's a dog over there!"  
  
"IS IT THAT MANGY DOG AGAIN? PROBABLY FOLLOWING ME FOR MY SPECIAL ATTACK. THAT LITTLE FOUR LEGGED THIEF!" Papyrus got up and shuffled over, looking through the top half of the window that wasn't obscured by your form hanging out of it. "OH. THAT IS NOT THE DOG I KNOW. IT LOOKS TO BE A HUMAN BREED OF DOG. AND IT IS IN NEED OF A FUR-CUT."  
  
"nah, that's what those breeds look like," sans said just behind your left shoulder. "Labrador or something like that. although it's not wearing a lab coat, so i can't be sure."  
  
You come back in, moving away from the window sill just far enough to narrow your eyes at him. "That wasn't funny. It was too obvious a joke to be funny."  
  
"It's just a dog. You act like you've never seen one before, nerd." she got up as well, despite herself, craning her neck to get a good look at the street below. "Huh. Looks like he's trying to cross. Not a smart idea, stupid dog."  
  
"SHOULD WE DO SOMETHING TO STOP HIM? IT IS NOT SAFE TO CROSS THE STREET WITHOUT TRAVELING ON A CROSSWALK. I LEARNED THAT FROM A HUMAN BOOK LAST MONTH!" he souned proud, striking a pose beside you. You smiled.  
  
"That's exactly right, Pap. But actually, dogs don't know-"

* * *

  
There was a screech, as the vehicle stopped, too far. It was almost out of the way, almost on the other side of the yellow line, home free on the sidewalk, before it was struck violently, a sickening sound heard through the open window. Something flashed in the corner of his vision, and he looked over at you. Your hands were on your mouth, and then immediately went to cover your eyes. Papyrus had moved over to you, hugging you close, clearly upset over what he had just seen. Undyne immediately leaned forward out the window, shouting down to the street below.  
  
"You son of a bitch!! Where the hell did you learn to drive with eyes like that! You just hit a goddamn dog!"  
  
"For the love of god, Undyne, please. This is not helping." he said it too late, as the driver had gotten out, and was shouting something back at her, all blonde hair and rain boots. Her voice was shrill, angry, terrified. He had no time for this.  
  
Gaster rose, pulling his no longer soaked now damp coat from the back of the couch and shrugging it on. Undyne wasted no time in putting on her own sweater, dashing over to the door to shove her feet back into her boots, not bothering to zip up the back before swinging the door open and dashing out into the hall. Gaster sighed, but followed, looking back over his shoulder.  
  
"I'm going to go and see if the dog is alright. I'm a scientist, but I know a thing or two about healing magic. Sans, you come too. Just in case. I don't think Undyne can heal."  
  
"fine." he said with a sigh, pulling his jacket back on with a huff, yanking the hood over his head.  
  
"I SHALL COME TOO! TO ENSURE THAT UNDYNE DOES NOT START FIGHTS WITH OTHER HUMANS!!" He was out the door before anyone could stop him, sprinting down the hall and stomping loudly down the steps to the ground floor. You looked at Sans and Gaster, wringing your hands in silence, your nerves betraying you. Gaster's features softened at that, moving to touch your shoulder lightly, Sans offering his trademark grin.  
  
"Oh god, I hope it's alright. I really hope they make it... Gods, I really do." you whispered. "But I don't... I, uh, I'm a little squeamish."  
  
"You do not have to come, if you do not want to. We are only going to check on it. We will be right back." he brought a hand up to the back of your neck and cupped it lightly. "I promise."  
  
"yeah, don't sweat it, buddy. we've all got our phones on us, so give us a ring if you need to. we'll let you know if the pup is alright. be back in a few."  
  
They both walked out the door, Gaster casting one final look at you curiously just before shutting the door behind him with a click. You were left alone in your apartment again.

* * *

  
It suddenly felt much larger than it was before. Much... quieter. Emptier. You hadn't stopped wringing your hands, your chest burning with tension and concern. What could you do..? _Oh! Wait!_ There was a window in your room overlooking the alleyway out back! You had seen the dog limp across the street towards that direction! Maybe you could get a good street view, see if it had moved towards the alley for protection? Yeah, yeah that was a good idea. Feet shuffling on the carpet, you make your way into your bedroom and over to the old, dirty window. It was jammed shut. Years of water and cold and heat warping the wood in a way that prevented it from being opened. This never bothered you much before, since you didn't hang around in your room too often, opting to sit on the couch and look out the window while listening to music instead. But now, now of all days, it bothered you.  
There was a small quadruped hobbling into view, the colorful silhouettes of your friends chasing after it into the alley. Gods, this window was gross. You should really have tried to find the time to clean it. _Oh wait... some of that is from the outside too_. Man, you couldn't see shit from here. _What were they doing? They looked like they had stopped. They were... staring at the dog. It was lying on the ground, now, twitching you think?_ Nobody moved.  
Sans was grabbing his head, Papyrus threw up, and you could hear the echoes of Undyne's scream. A cold, powerful shiver went up your spine. You hoped with all of your might that the dog was alright, but you were struggling to keep that hope alive with those reactions. So you reach for your phone, pressing on the last contact number in your dial history, pressing it to your ear, and waiting for them to pick up. Your heart was in your throat as it rung, something twisted sitting in the pit of your gut as you stood there, overlooking the alley from the small and dark confines of your apartment.

* * *

 

They were standing out in the alley, unable to process what was happening before them. The smell of wet concrete and dirty, rain soaked garbage mixing with the scent of detergent from a nearby dryer unit's venting pipe blowing somewhere above them. There was something sickly sweet behind it all, the sounds of the world fading around them, everything silenced the second they stepped closer to it, brains struggling to put together the information. Confused and disturbed-  
  
_**********************************************************************************  
**_  
and they're looking at the body- watching it twitch and writhe on the ground. It's head was cracked open, jagged bone on the ugly wound poking out of wet viscera, the smell metallic, nauseating. It was making sounds of pain; choking, gurgling as it struggled under the grey light in the alleyway. The stared on in abject horror as the thing spasmed so hard, parts of it's brain were flung out around it in a bloody halo. It was a scene directly from a nightmare. Heaving chest and broken bone sliding onto the cracked concrete. It was attempting to get up, tongue hanging out of it's mouth, broken limbs slipping on it's own blood spilling beneath it. It was so horrendously wounded, it barely even looked like a dog anymore. The vehicle that hit it clearly did a lot more damage than he had initially thought. No amount of healing magic could fix this. It attempted to bark, to snarl at them, but ended up biting it's own tongue in an attempt to bear its teeth, fresh blood oozing from those jaws, it's tongue flopping free of it's maw, hitting the ground with a wet plop.  
  
_************************************************************************************  
**_  
There was a horrified scream from Undyne, the sound of Papyrus hyperventilating and then vomiting behind him. Sans was wheezing a mantra of profanities over and over again, a hand clutching at his now empty eye sockets, leaning against the brick building like he was ready to pass out. The entirety of the world felt like it was falling out from beneath him, warping and churning and groaning with the hell that was attempting to birth itself in this moment. There was no way this could be reality. No way on this planet that this was even a possibility. This creature was clearly maimed so brutally, that it should not even be able to move. And yet there it was, in the waning light of the evening, like some hell beast from a horror story he did not agree to appear in.  
Why was this happening? What was causing this? Gaster tore his gaze away from the gory scene to scan around the area in a blind panic, eyes shooting back up to the window overlooking the small alley. Your form stood in the window, hands pressed to the glass, your face too far away for him to see correctly. But he assumed there was a look of worry on your face, as you tried to open the window, but it would not budge. That form disappeared into the darkness of your room, his phone bursting to life with a loud ringtone, your name on the screen, staring him back in the face. He didn't want to answer it, but didn't want you to descend those steps down to this freak show happening in front of him either. One consequence outweighed the other, and he numbly swiped the green icon, pressing the cold thing to his ear.  
  
"Is the dog alright? What happened? You guys are just staring at it! What's wrong??" there was significant worry and agitation in your voice, your face back, nearly pressed to the glass once more. He had no idea what to say, his voice sounding a thousand miles away, odd and whispering.  
  
"I... it.... it's dead."  
  
"What? Oh my god... oh no. Jesus..." you sounded so broken hearted. But he had no time to register anything you said beyond that. The creature in front of him finally stopped moving, heaving one final, shuddering, pathetic whine before it passed completely. Sans had stopped swearing, resorting to kneeling and breathing heavily, head clasped between his knees, hands on the back of his neck. He was rocking back and forth. Undyne was clutching her head, pacing back and forth, eyes wide, skin a deathly pale pallor. Papyrus... Papyrus, bless his poor soul, was sitting on the ground, turned away, hands over his ears, sobbing. Even he had to admit, in all his years of being a scientist, he had never encountered this kind of thing. It was utterly disturbing. Something that he was sure would haunt him in the back of his mind for an eternity to come.  
  
There was a gentle sniffle on the other end of the receiver, slowly dragging him back to reality. The world settled itself again, no longer the shuddering thing that reverberated the echoes of a living hell around him. Something wasn't right. Something here just wasn't adding up. He stood there, hands shaking, holding the phone, staring at the corpse of the dog before him, brutalized and twisted, a million questions running through his skull. All buzzing by too fast, too loud. Until something hit him hard enough to make his soul turn cold with the thought.  
It hadn't stopped moving until he told you it....  
  
_"Oh god, I hope it's alright. I really hope they make it... Gods, I really do."_  
  
The subtle glint of maroon energy from under the door as they left, the way his soul skipped briefly the moment they approached the heaving thing. Your desire for it to live. Your absolute, and strong wish to ensure it survived; you clung to it tightly. Filled with a need to see it come true.  
It clicked, finally. The horrific puzzle piece fitting snugly in place. The body continued to move, because it could not accept that it had expired. It **REFUSED** to die, fueled by a force unseen to any of them.

The only force capable of something so oddly twisted. The only viable anomaly in the area to have a direct and chilling hand in this.  
  
_YOUR_ force.  
  
Awoken and activated in the moment you saw it struck by the vehicle. Holding the life energy of the suffering thing in its body until you were convinced it was gone. Kept alive despite it's agony. The unseen force gripping it tightly in it's broken body. Your force...  
  
_The power of Tenacity_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I struggled with some art block on this for the week as well. But there you have it! Tenacity might not be the positive soul power these scientists once thought it could be! 
> 
> Got any feedback? Questions? I'd love to hear it! Your kind words and suggestions mean the world to me! 
> 
> Also, I made a tumblr! I don't know how to work links or anything like that, but here you go!
> 
> https://mixara-the-monster.tumblr.com
> 
> It's still new and I'm doing what I can! I WILL CONTINUE TO WORK HARD TO CONQUER A NEW DIMENSION.  
> I HOPE YOU RULE THE DAY WITH ALL THE POWER OF A FLAMETHROWER UNICORN!!!


	6. Dance with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are filled with anger and trepidation. 
> 
> Financial stress can be a bitch, and your bad attitude is starting to affect everyone else.

They're all piled on your couch, tucked under the biggest blanket you could find while you scurried about the small kitchen attempting to make enough tea to accommodate them all. The sofa itself was a little too small to fit five people if you included yourself. So you had to pull out an old cushioned fold-out chair from the closet in your bedroom. It was deep, and leaned back a little, but you didn't have anything else to offer. Papyrus was dead center, shoes kicked off, scarf hanging on a hook by the door, face buried in his knees while he took shuddering breaths. Undyne sat to his right, Sans curled up on his left, clutching at his arm, face ducked under his brother's shoulder. He was whispering something quietly, barely keeping the tremble out of his own voice. Part of you wanted to ask them for a twentieth time what had occurred out there in the alley, but the tense atmosphere had you zipping your yap for the time being. You weren't against giving them time to deal with whatever happened. Curiosity be damned at this moment. It's just that sitting in the kitchen and humming nervously to yourself was doing little to no good for you. Even fidgeting around and spot cleaning the damn kitchen did about as much as you'd expected.  It had only been a few hours, the sky already dark with the late evening, and things went to shit three times in a damn row. You wouldn't say it was a record, really. But fuck, did it put you in a bad spot mentally. You could have leapt straight into space with how wired you were feeling. You take a deep breath, trying to still your jittering limbs as you gazed at the water bubbling in the electric kettle.  
  
"_____." You nearly experienced orbit, as promised, when Gaster's voice mumbled somewhere nearby. "May I... have a word with you."

  
Why was it every time someone asked to speak to you, you felt like a child ready to be scolded? Even now, you were thinking of every possible thing you had done wrong within the hour. ( _Well, it's a lot if we're counting all the crap from dawn up until now)_ , you reasoned. Still, every part of you wanted to say no. To make up some excuse to crab walk your ass right out of it. But since you didn't know the exact context of what he wanted to talk to you about, you just nodded.  
  
"Sure thing, doc. Just let me finish up the tea, and set it out for everyone first." It wouldn't save you. But it would give you enough time to steel yourself for what would come next. Frazzled nerves are best served with tea. Heh, real  _tea_ -riffic idea you had there. Damn. Puns in your head. The anxiety was already setting in.  
  
"Of course." He nodded politely, and stood, leaning against the counter, waiting.  
  
_Uuuuhhhm_. That wasn't helping you at all. What, he couldn't just wait in the other room?  Maybe the atmosphere in there was getting to him? No, he experienced it too. Maybe he wanted to talk about what happened in the alley, but didn't want to do it in front of the others? That made you feel a little less nervous. Although... with how everyone seemed to be affected by it, you suddenly weren't sure that was a good thing to know. The electric timer for the kettle clicked off, and you set about pouring the hot water into four separate mugs.  
  
"Ah, did you not make any for yourself?" he said as you handed him one of the mugs.  
  
You shook your head. "Mm. I had some earlier. I'm good for right now. Plus, I think you guys need it more."  
  
He stared into his cup, a hard frown forming on his features. You fidget in place, unsure of what to say. But before you could work up the courage to inquire,  Papyrus began sobbing anew, the shuddering whimpers clenching powerfully at your heart. You hastily put all three mugs on a large plate and carried it out into the livingroom, immediately placing it on the coffee table before fixing your attention on the wailing skeleton. Undyne was looking down at her lap, jaw clenched tightly. Sans was quiet, head barely visible from under the blankets. Gods above, it must have been bad, whatever happened to that poor dog to affect them this way. You pluck a mug carefully from the plate and sink to your knees directly in front of Papyrus. One hand coming up to gently touch his hand and pull it from his face. There was an orange blush across his cheeks, fat tear drops soaking his gloves and dripping down his skull. _Oh Papyrus..._  
  
"Here you go, Pap." you said in a soft whisper. "To warm you up. It's just tea."  
  
Those wide sockets held so much pain, looking down to you in a frail desperation that had your own soul wrenching, wondering if you could ever take that feeling from him and cast it away forever. A look like that didn't belong on a face so sincere. It broke your heart to see him so distraught. You hold his hand tightly, deciding to forego the tea altogether, setting it down and wrapping him in a tight hug, stroking the back of his skull.  
  
"I don't know what happened. I don't know how to make it better. I'm so sorry, Paps." There wasn't anything you could say to help him through this. Nothing you could outright tell him to make that suffering go away. And that hurt. Knowing you couldn't ease his pain. It wasn't much, but he seemed to take what comfort he could get, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your t-shirt.  
  
"T-THE D-DOG." He hiccuped. "IT- IT WAS-!"  
  
You gently shush him, hand moving to rub soothing at his back. More muffled sniffling. Gods. Jesus, it must have been bad. Really bad. If even Sans clammed up when asked, and Undyne deflected your questions with a mumbled response, then it had to have been something terrible. Suddenly, your curiosity sank further and further into a corner in the back of your mind. You weren't really sure you wanted to know anymore. Something touched your shoulder. When you looked over, Gaster was gently trying to steer you away from the group, motioning with his head for you to follow him outside into the hallway. You were uncertain, not wanting to let Papyrus go, still gently rubbing small circles on his back.  
  
"Undyne and Sans can take it from here." he said quietly.  
  
Undyne nodded at you, letting you remove yourself from Papyrus, and moving to hug him herself, pulling the blanket back up around his shoulders. Sans said nothing. He didn't even look at you. So you left without a word, opening the front door and following Gaster out into the dirty hall. When you closed the door behind you, he seemed to take a few moments to collect himself, brow furrowing with uncertainty. You decided not to press, letting him find his words as you leaned comfortably against the wall. There was music playing in the room below you, the heavy beat of it vibrating through the floor beneath your feet. A woman a few doors down was yelling at her cats in spanish again, the sounds of hissing and meowing distant and muffled, but still audible enough to be a nuisance.  
His movements were unsure as he turned back around, resolve burning behind his eyes when he finally spoke.  
  
"Did you happen to feel anything before we left the apartment? Did you, perhaps, do anything when you saw the dog struck by the vehicle?"  
  
It threw you for a loop. You weren't exactly expecting the first thing to come out of his mouth to be an indirect accusation on your part. You were dumbfounded for a moment, blinking owlishly. He couldn't be serious, could he? No. No there was no way. Standing there in the fluorescent light of the overhead bulbs in this hallway, he looked anything but sure of himself. He looked confused. Expectant. Hopeful for something. You didn't know what to make of it. Didn't know what he wanted to hear. So instead of outright calling him out on his accusation, you decide to think about it. Did you do anything weird before they left? Did something happen before they left? Not.. not that you know of?  
  
"No, I don't think so? I mean, I couldn't really tell you. When you guys left, I just went over to the window to figure out where the dog went. I didn't do anything weird."  
  
His expression shifted into something you couldn't place. Yeah, it definitely wasn't the answer he was looking for. You couldn't give more than that however, opting to shift your weight to your other leg, crossing your arms. The atmosphere was changing as the seconds ticked past, growing heavier with the weight of the uncertainty. Gaster started to slowly pace, hands clasped behind his back. The thick soles of his shoes thudded heavily on the thin carpet, creaking loudly as he stepped on a loose board beneath it.  
  
"Did you have any specific emotions?" he asked.  
  
"What, you mean besides complete and unadulterated horror at the fact that an animal was just hit by a vehicle five times its size? Yeah. Lots and lots of worry."  
  
"Worry." he parroted, still pacing. If you knew the doc like you think you did, any second now, he would begin mumbling to himself within the next ten seconds.  
  
"Worry isn't a viable source of an energy surge. Nothing that could cause something like that to... then if we pick it apart from the previous event, it could have been a form of residue. Probably leaking out in surplus when we-"  
  
Okay. Make that two seconds.  
  
You didn't disturb him. Just slid down the wall and sat on the floor, tucking your legs under you comfortably. It wasn't like anything you said could reach the guy once he got like this. So it would probably be best to just let him do his thing in his head while you chilled out for a minute. Out here, there wasn't anyone directly viewing you or talking to you. And as much as you loved the company, it got to be a little overwhelming sometimes. You loved company, loved having people passively bonding with you in the same room as you read a book and they did something else. Loved the way it felt coming home to a place that wasn't so empty all the time. Sometimes, though, you needed the silence. Needed the emptiness to fill with your own energy. So this was nice. Especially after, well, that.  
It was just a dog, you told yourself. Just a dog. So then why do I feel like it might as well have been another human out there on the street? No, there's something else there. I'm feeling the tense emotions orbiting these guys head like a satellite on high speed. I'm feeling it, and my brain is telling me their reaction shouldn't be so severe. Not over the death of a dog. It's just a dog. I'm sure they've seen animals die like that before, because they weren't aghast when it was hit. Papyrus and I had the worst reactions to it. But when they came back..  
  
Nervous fingers pull at a loose string on the edge of your shirt, wrapping it around your index finger and yanking it free with a snap. Something here wasn't adding up. Something that set your nerves on edge. A piece of the puzzle was missing in all of this. That being your perspective view from above, and theirs from below. The steady, rhythmic thumping of Gaster's shoes the only sound to be heard once the crazy spanish woman two doors down finally stopped screaming.  
  
"-if it was, then perhaps we could simply. No, that wouldn't work either."  
Your mind drifted the longer you sat, the longer he paced. Huh, wonder where he gets his clothes. Those pants look like they've been tailored to fit him. Odd. Do doctors always wear suits? I don't think I've ever seen a doctor who wasn't dressed up. Is that a job requirement? Do they operate in formal clothes underneath the scrubs? How weird.  
"Yet I'm certain of it. There is nothing around that could have caused this. Nothing to create a scene so horrific."  
  
His shoes weren't all that big either. Funny, considering Sans' sneakers always look too big compared to the rest of him. But Gaster's polished shoes looked pretty average in size. Maybe it's because he didn't appear to be all bone. Ew, is that a spider on the railing? Oh, no, that's a dead fly in a cobweb. Wonder if they'll ever clean this place? Or if they ever did.  
  
"It's inconclusive at this point. But I have a sneaking suspicion that what occurred with the animal after it was struck might have been your doing."  
  
It took you a second to realize he was talking to you, looking up at him from your spot on the floor. He had stopped pacing. You didn't quite catch what he said.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Yes, I know it seems strange. But I think that the unstable fluctuation of your energy during our little experiment in there might have made your previous emotional state even worse. It wasn't something I was directly thinking of at the time. Which is a gross miscalculation on my part."  
  
"Wait wait wait. Are you saying _I_ killed the dog?" Oh hell no. You were not about to be responsible for an innocent death like that! You didn't control the car! "What the hell kind of accusation is that?"  
  
Gaster shook his head, coming over to kneel down in front of you, the severity of his tone making your blood go cold. "I'm saying you're the reason that dog _didn't_ die."  
  
Something about that made you feel sick. The hidden context in there wasn't something you wanted to inquire about. "Wait, so it didn't die?"  
  
"Not at first, no." he stood back up, holding out his hand for you to take. "When we found it, it was... Ah, I'lll spare you the gory details. It was severely injured. To the point where its death should have been a quick one. It should not have been able to get up from its spot on the road and make it that far into the alley. It had massive head trauma. And it appeared three of its legs were broken. No matter how you look at it, the creature should not have been able to consciously move itself anywhere."  
  
You numbly grabbed his hand, allowing yourself to be pulled to your feet. "Are you telling me the dog..?"  
  
"It refused to die, yes." He searched your face before taking a breath and continuing. "It was kept alive by something. It wasn't able to die, because it was trapped in its own body through sheer primal determination."  
  
"Primal... determination?" that sounded a lot like-  
  
Gaster nodded finally, now looking you full in the face, letting go of your hand.  
  
"Tenacity."  
  
Everything in your head came to a screeching halt. Your entire body doused in ice water, exploding into your veins, a wave a nausea hitting you. Your soul power did what? Gods above, please say this was some kind of joke. Please say that it wasn't- that it couldn't be-

"It was s-staggering. It was hit pretty h-hard, how could it..? H-how.. hhhh-!" Your teeth wouldn't stop chattering. A living creature was imprisoned in it's maimed body. A living creature was kept alive in it's twisted corpse.  _It was staggering across the road. There was a grisly streak of red on the pavement where it dragged itself after it fell. No, it shouldn't have been alive. But it was. And it suffered untold horrors. BECAUSE OF YOU._  
  
"I don't have anything conclusive to prove this hypothesis. But there simply wasn't any other factor that could have caused it. I want you to understand that it was not your fault, not directly. In fact, it very well may have been ours, for aggravating Tenacity's soul power to such a point. It was residual energy that must have-"  
But you weren't listening. You grabbed the handle of the front door, pushing it back with a hard shove, running through the living room, avoiding the faces that looked over in surprise, tearing around the corner to the hall and into the bathroom, where you promptly emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet.  
  
_It can't be. It can't be!_  
  
Your stomach heaved painfully, eyes shut tight, gurgling miserably.  
  
_*We left because we wanted to avoid this.To avoid being a monster AGAIN._  
  
Someone appeared in the doorway, you could feel it. Their presence looming over you, a warm hand touching your icy skin, rubbing tenderly at your back. God, how much had you eaten? It couldn't have been this much!  
  
_This soul power. It's-_  
_It's hurting other creatures like that? What kind of sick horror was this? Your soul must be evil, if it does something so horrendous!_  
  
Your stomach clenched one last time, and empty gag as drool and tears covered your face.  
  
_Monster. I'm a monster. A monster...Only this time, it's a reality, instead of an abstract concept._  
  
A sudden thought came to mind, quiet and whispering; What if there was a kind of soul power that couldn't be used? What if you never found a job? What if your soul was... defective? What if you were deemed unusable? What then?

... _what then?_

* * *

  
Sans was in the kitchen, cleaning up the left over food, carelessly plopping the dishes into the dishwasher. Crazy, huh? But doing anything chore related was much better than having to explain a horror scene scenario to his little brother in a logical manner. So he opted to give himself some space by taking up dish duty while they remained in the living room. Undyne was still sitting on the couch with Paps, both leaning their backs against an armrest, legs tangled together in the middle underneath the blankets. They were talking quietly, Papyrus no longer crying, but still quieter than usual. He wasn't sure what she was saying, but from the looks of it, it was helping. They had both reached a silent agreement that his baby brother's well-being came first before attempting to squeeze any answers they could out of the doc. She was probably talking to him again about the differences between monsters and humans, and the overworld animals, compared to their underground ones. No souls here, just hearts and organs and lots of death.

And blood.

  
_And genocide._  
  
He added bitterly, tossing a spoon into the white silverware container on he bottom rack. it wasn't something he liked to revisit. It wasn't something he had to, since the nightmares ebbed in their ferocity after the first eight or so months above ground. But Sans still kept the more brutal flashes in his skull as a mental reminder of what these humans were capable of. Of what they could do in times of boredom. In times of desperation. He wasn't going to pretend he was any better than them. But he was always certain they were worse. Humans had proved it time and again. There was no need to dispute a fact.  
Papyrus' voice filled the air again, asking questions. It felt good to hear it at its normal volume instead of that wounded whisper that sat so ill in his mouth. Things like this should never be seen by him. Papyrus was too good, too kind and hopeful. Seeing him torn apart like this in the face of something he couldn't understand made Sans want to... well, do something violent.  All of this would require a proper explanation at a later time. But for now, small white lies couldn't hurt. He'd make a point at asking Undyne what she talked about, so if Paps comes asking about it later, he could reiterate it, feigning consistency in the logic. The time for the truth would come. Just not right now. Or anytime soon.  
He finished plopping the soap into the small holder, shutting the dishwasher door with a click. It seemed to turn on automatically, so he wiped his hands on a towel and made his way back into the living room. At that same moment, Gaster rounded the corner heaving a sigh. The stoop of his posture said he wasn't in great shape himself over all of this.   
  
"what's up?" he flopped on the folding chair. "you look like you wanna say something."  
  
His right eye twitched. _Yup_ , he thought, _he definitely has something he wants to say_. Knowing his brother, however, it was probably not going to come out of him easily. So he sat quietly as Undyne and Paps trained their eyes on his hesitant expression.  
  
"I think perhaps we should leave the human be, for now." came his careful reply after a long moment.  
  
"What?" Undyne blinked. "In case you forgot, a damn dog just met a pretty damn grisly end in the alley directly outside this window, we're all probably in for a few years of therapy and _____ literally ran in here and threw up right after you took them out into the hall. Don't know about you, but all of this is hella sketchy, bro." She squinted her eyes at him."And I can't help but feel like there's something here we're missing. Something you might know. There somethin' you ain't telling us?"  
  
He shook his head. "In due time, certainly." Undyne scoffed at that. "As for the... incident earlier with _____ in the bathroom, I merely told them what we saw down in the alley. As you can see, they did not take it too well."  
  
"THE HUMAN AND I HAD THE SAME REACTION, IT SEEMS..." Papyrus said absently.  
  
"s'okay bro. sometimes scary things make our bodies do weird things."  
  
He fiddled with the tips of his gloves, nodding slowly. "I SUPPOSE SO."  
  
"Are they okay, though? They were puking in there for some time. I'm pretty sure they didn't even eat that much." Undyne said.  
  
"It seems they passed out shortly afterward. So I put them to bed. I'd probably attribute it to the stress of the traumatic events that happened in a short amount of time. That being said, I don't know if we can do much else here, today. And it is getting late." he tacked on with finality.  
  
Everyone looked to each other wearily in silent, albeit reluctant, agreement. The sun _had_ set a while ago, the sky outside now pitch black, a barely perceptible smattering of stars in the distance. The neon lights from the convenience store below bathing the glass of the window in a vivid blue and pink. They hadn't intended to stay here so long. In fact, Sans was pretty sure no one expected an extended visit to the downtown area to have their next week ruined with nightmare of a horrendously maimed quadruped. He knew Paps would be sleeping with him in the living room for the next couple of days, after all of this. He'd also need to schedule an appointment with their therapist sometime within the month as well.  He wasn't too sure about Undyne or Gaster, but he knew this was something that would forever haunt him in the back of his mind.  
Despite his earlier urging to leave, Gaster still stood in place, hands clasped in front of him, eyes on the carpet. It was clear he had something more to say to them, but was unsure of where to start, or how to to put it. No one spoke. It was unnerving, the way the silence stretched between all of them, atmosphere settling in thick enough to suffocate. Three pairs of nervous eyes darted from face to face in unspoken uncertainty.

"I do not have any conclusive explanation for what happened." he said slowly. "But I will look into it when am able. For now, let's keep this incident between just the five of us. I doubt anyone would receive it very well, if we decided to talk about it. This, as well as the event preceding this one."  
  
Papyrus looked over to Undyne, and she leaned forward to pat his knee, before nodding. Sans just stood, zipping up his jacket and snagging the tupperware containers of food off the table.  
  
"sure thing, doc. we'll stay tight-lipped about the whole ordeal. No use spilling sensitive information, right?"  
  
Gaster was lying. He had information, an idea of what could have caused all of this. And if Gaster was lying, it mean nothing good would come of. He knew this all too well from experience.

* * *

  
The clinic was open again, the rumbling of the heating unit finally fixed, now just a quiet hum somewhere in the ceiling. Even the lights in the room were made to be a less glaring bright white light, and now just lit the room without leaving your eyeballs singed from the sheer force of it's brightness. The floors looked newly waxed and shiny. The one broken tile in the corner fixed, no longer the spot your eyes rested on when Sans or Gaster scolded you for fidgeting around too much. You were back in that hideous hospital gown, back to being cold and hungry and impatient. Back to getting on Gaster's nerves. Back to Sans picking on you occasionally. Back to the routine. Not much changed in this environment. The usual antics and behaviors like untouched clockwork fully separated from the world outside. It felt comforting, really. Having such a sense of normality to balance the hellish events prior to this one. The only exception to that routine being,  
your soul was significanlty less reactive than it had ever been before.  
No matter the tests, no matter the stimuli, no matter the amount of time spent on various ideas, your soul sat like a stone above grave. Somber, dark, unmoving. Unresponsive to anything the two scientists did to it. And despite your best efforts at maintaining your control, the lack of progress was making you nervous. You spent two days like this. Thirteen and fourteen hours each. Just sitting there looking up at your soul anxiously as the two of them exchanged frustrated looks, crumpling up papers and arguing about what method would work best for this or that.  
The deadline for your next rent payment was fast approaching. And there were still zeros in your bank account. Your phone bill would turn those into negatives by the end of the week. This clinic refused to pay you directly until proper results came about from these tests, promising you compensation for every breakthrough they had every month. You were only contracted for two, but something told you with that kind of loophole, you'd only be paid for one. The way you saw it, one of two things needed to occur:  
  
**1.** They have a breakthrough via some miracle, and you'd get paid, saving your account, and your living situation.  
**2.** You get another job that will pay you under the table until you could get your official license for work, because you couldn't do shit without it.  
  
Worry gnawed at the edges of your mind. Your self-control wavering the more the tests failed. It wasn't until after the fifth test on the first day when you went to get a snack from the vending machine, that you realized how compromised you were emotionally and mentally about it all.  
It laid on its side, one light still flickering vainly inside, right where those nasty granola bars were. Smoke rose from the back of it, two large cracks with thin spiderweb fractures radiating from where your fist had connected with it seconds prior. Food tumbled loose, some of them now on the floor at your bare feet. You were heaving, hand bleeding, coming down from the adrenaline rush of rage that caused you to topple the damn thing after it wouldn't take the crumpled bill in your hand. It was a flash, too quick for you to reign it back under your control. The rage too overwhelming, your mind not connecting the pain in your fist the first time you struck it. You felt like shit, standing there, understanding that perhaps breaking the property of the clinic was not the smartest thing you could have done right now.  
It was Sans that found you, his entire body flinching at the state of your mangled fists and the broken vending machine. You were fumbling uselessly for words when that accusing look of disbelief locked onto you.  
  
"kid, what the actual _fuck_?"  
  
Yeah, no kidding.  
  
On the tenth test of the second day, you were arguing vehemently with Gaster about going back onto the examination table and letting them pull another blood test from you after administering some weird medicine two hours prior. He was doing all he could to keep his temper in check. You wished you could have said the same. Because you were doing everything in your power to let yours be known. Screaming, raving, stomping your feet and refusing to budge. You were so tired! Hungry! Cold! Exasperated with this utter lack of any real results! Nothing was happening! And you weren't getting paid until it did! The tall scientist was putting down the syringe, taking off his gloves and holding both palms out, attempting to calm you. You knew he was trying. You knew he was doing his best. You knew he was just as frustrated. But your mind wouldn't let you relinquish your fierce grip on your anger, your control lost in a flash as you swept your arm across an adjacent counter, sending beakers and papers and various liquids crashing to the floor in a broken and messy heap. You flung a chair and kicked over a rolling table, tore papers and seethed with rage. All of your frustrations coming out with every unspoken word of suffering being channeled through your body, as destructive as a bull in a china shop. It wasn't until Gaster had your arms firmly held behind your back that you allowed yourself to breathe, the aftermath ugly, bits of paper still fluttering to the soaked floors. Small glass shards catching your disheveled image.  
He was saying something, but you couldn't hear it. His grip too tight, your panting too loud. The air too cold against your exposed skin. He was in front of you, trying to get your attention, your arms now freed, falling heavily to your sides. You couldn't understand. Didn't want to understand. Didn't want to hear it right now. So you bring your hands up and block your ears defiantly, squeezing your eyes shut, forcing yourself not to cry. There was a pain in your soul as those hands left your shoulders, the warmth from his body disappearing and leaving you alone. He wouldn't forgive this. You destroyed the whole room. One eye peeled open slowly, catching more shards at your feet. There were bloody cuts on them, an ugly bruise forming on the left shin. The stinging pain finally registering in your hazy mind.  
  
Gods above, what the hell was your problem?

* * *

  
He had you sitting in his office, clad in a spare sweater he kept hanging on the back of his cushioned chair. Your shirt and jacket had been soaked from the contents of the smashed beakers, and littered with tiny bits of shattered glass. It was too cold and too dangerous to wear them now. Luckily enough, your pants were still safe, hanging by a belt loop off the knob of a drawer when they were flung off the table. The sweater had a small hatch design on it, running down the fabric in two rows. It was thick and made of wool, a dull beige color that he didn't much care for, but that kept him warm nonetheless. He wasn't sure how long he had it in there, or when the last time was that he washed it. It sat on your frame loosely. The turtleneck covering your mouth as you ducked into it, pouting. The sleeves were too long, and you refused to roll them up despite his insistent reminders. It might as well have been a robe, really. You sat in the chair, avoiding his gaze, arms crossed petulantly.  
Gaster should have felt angry at the damages, and scold you for the havoc you wreaked. And he was angry. Incredibly livid, in fact. The expenses on new equipment and cleaning costs alone was worth whatever money in rent you paid for that shitty little apartment of yours. But he couldn't put enough edge into his words when you were sitting there in his clothes, trying to look intimidating. You looked like a child. Too small for the shirt, taking off the belt for the pants and tying it around your waist to make it look more like a robe. It was too... cute.  
  
So instead, he ran a hand over his face and pointed at the door. "Out."  
  
That seemed to grab your attention. "What?"  
  
"Out." he repeated. "Now."  
  
A look of hurt and regret crossed your features briefly before you got up and stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind you. A frame from the wall fell to the floor with the impact, and he set his hands on his desk and slowly exhaled. He needed a fucking drink.

* * *

  
The door shut behind you with a slam, the temporary light from the hall being cut off, sending the small living room into darkness. The lights from the street below lit up the adjacent window to your left. You were gasping, having nearly run all the way back to your apartment, filled with embarrassment and guilt and residual bits of anger still lingering at the edges. The bandages around your hands and feet did nothing for the pain. Everything hurt. You felt god awful, not bothering to turn on any lights as you locked the door. It was so freaking cold in here. Early spring was a crock of shit with all this cold rain, and there wasn't any heat in this place. Why was everything just a source of perpetual agitation? Couldn't one day go by without inciting your anger? Or was it just you? You kick off your shoes, pulling off your pants and undoing the belt from around the long as fuck sweater before you heard a ding from your phone, signaling a message.  
You fumble through the pockets in the dark, your eyes squinting against the bright light of your phone. You lower the brightness, and click the icon on the screen. It was... from Gaster?  


_** ________________________________________________________________________________________ ** _

**Doc:** **You do not have to come in tomorrow morning, since neither Sans nor I will be here.**  
**We will, however, be in the clinic around noon. And I would like to take an hour of your**  
**time to speak to both you and Sans about something.**  
_**________________________________________________________________________________________**_  
  
  
Talk about something? Man, the way your gut gurgled with anxiety made you unsure whether or not you wanted to hear what he had to say. But running away from the problem did nothing. You still needed to get paid. And your bills weren't going to pay themselves. Somewhere in the distance, your bank account sobbed about feeling empty inside. You suck it up, thumbs dancing around the keyboard for a second, before sending a reply:

 

 _ **_________________________________________________________________**_  
  
**You:** **Sure. You want me to wash the sweater before giving it back?  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
_**  
You were about to tack on a thank you at the end there, for him lending it to you. But your pride got the better of you, and you hit send before you could think on it otherwise. You made your way to your bedroom, pulling the thick fleece comforter around yourself and flopping onto the old mattress. The room was still a bit messy. Your clothes still in the corners, papers and notebooks and a half empty mug of tea sitting atop the small broken dresser in the corner. The walls were bare, save for a couple of posters and a calendar, one of which was bathed in a blue glow from a distant outdoor porch light across the road. It smelled like cheap air freshener and laundry detergent in here. Familiar and comforting to your weary senses. You stretch out a hand in the sheets, fumbling for the black cord to charge your phone when it buzzed once more in your grasp. Another new message.  
  
**_________________________________  
_**  
**Doc:** **You can keep the sweater.**  
  
**__________________________________**

You stare at it, feeling like maybe he was so pissed with you, he didn't care to have something that sat on your body for more than a minute. Of course, you could always be wrong. Maybe he just didn't like it. Still, the clipped tone you felt in your head about it didn't sit well with you. So you stick your phone on the charger, ready to set it down on the empty spot next to you, before it buzzed yet again.  
  
**__________________________**

 **Doc:** **You wear it better.**

 _ **________________________  
**_  
You bring the screen to your face, squinting. What was that supposed to mean?  
  
**_____________________________  
_**  
**You: I wear everything better.  
  
______________________________**  
  
You were supposed to be angry. He was supposed to be pissed with you. This was supposed to be curt. It was late, and your body hurt. Yet that didn't stop you from replying, didn't stop it from going off again in your hand.  
  
_**______________________________________________________________________  
**_  
**Doc:** **Especially the sweater. So keep it. I will see you tomorrow afternoon.**  
**Goodnight.**  
  
**You:** **G'night doc.**  
  
_**______________________________________________________________________**_

Plopping the phone on the empty spot on the mattress next to you, you turn over and pull the blanket over your head, curling into yourself in an attempt to retain warmth. Your face buried deeper into the turtleneck sweater, the scent of some strange and incredibly subtle scent of cologne mixed with something else hitting your nostrils. Taking off the sweater had been a thought. But it was thicker than anything you currently owned, and covered your body nicely as you tucked your knees into the trailing bottom of it. It was... a really nice scent, you decided, settling into it with a sigh. He was shitty, grouchy old man sometimes. But not a terrible one. The exhaustion in your bones finally took over, causing you to yawn and close your eyes, drifting off almost immediately.  
  
At least you would get to sleep in this time.

* * *

  
Gaster was looking at you with raised brows, eyeing your outfit. You had on loose fitting faded green cargo pants with tan combat boots. His sweater, now your sweater, partially tucked in on one side, the turtleneck cut cleanly off, revealing a simple pendant. You weren't dressed to the nines. In fact, it was a very lazy looking outfit. But it suited you. That head of hear was still a little messy. Your expression still stiff and defiant. But he just gave a mental shrug, turning back to the blank white board he had rolled into his office from the break room.  
  
He began writing the words, "Methods of Control", on the very top of the white space. Dr. Alphys and Sans both sitting in chairs next to yours. With little to no results from past tests, Gaster decided that perhaps he could enlist the help of another mind to better help them come up with a game plan at tackling this beast of an issue. No traditional methods could be used if they wanted to bring about the full potential of your soul. What better way to come up with a plan than to brainstorm all together?  
  
"Methods of what?" came your testy tone. He ignored it.  
  
"From what I can tell, your soul power spikes when you feel anger or desperation. From what we have directly observed it doesn't seem to be a power you can activate at will either." He said, setting down the marker and turning around. "There's an odd fluctuation that occurs just before it is activated, however. Yet for the life of me I cannot seem to figure out what that fluctuation is or what it reacts to."  
  
That was even less comforting. So great, it was clear you had actual manifestations of a soul power that could be utilized. The only problem being that you couldn't directly use it, or had any solid inclination of its potential use besides keeping suffering animals alive. If this is what your resume was going to have in it, you doubted your desirability amongst possible employers. Yes! Hello! I have the soul thing. Yup. Suuuure do! It can cause immeasurable suffering to the dead or dying by trapping them in their body! It could be a chandelier decoration for you on halloween, if you'd like! Or hey! Why stop there? Need a nightlight for the hallway so no one trips? Want to create a mass army of the undead? Look no further!  
  
"Unfortunately," he sighed, turning his gaze to you. "Your consistent levels of stress are interfering with any attempts at gaining further information. So we have come together today to figure out ways of enabling you to better manage that stress in a healthier way than destroying my lab."  
  
"Is this just a fancy way of saying you guys are having a formal intervention on account of my bad behavior?" you crinkled your nose. _Huh, how oddly endearing_ , he thought.  
  
It was clear they would get nowhere if you were to get upset again, so Sans stood up from his spot, standing next to Gaster with his hands stuffed into the large pockets of his over-sized lab coat. His younger brother tended to be a little more successful in the communications department when it came to you. He said nothing, nodding at Sans and giving him a little space to stand in front of the board.  
  
"look kid, nothing is getting done here until you learn to reign in that temper of yours. we enlisted the help of Undyne and Papyrus as well, so that they can help us get you into a better head space about all of this."  
  
You raised your hands, folded cuffs flopping. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What? You mean I'm going to be monitored while we do this?"  
  
Sans picked up the marker, writing different words next to bullet points. "these were the suggestions everyone has come up with. since we have nothing to show for this month, and the possibility for any real data popping out of the blue in a week isn't realistic, we decided to go with this instead." he stepped to the side, capping off the marker and pointing. "over the course of this next week, you will be spending time managing your stress with each of us in different ways."  
  
"W-w-what? The rest of the _week_?!" you yell indignantly. "But I don't want to do any of that crap! Just do another test- I don't care which one! I need to figure out my job placement and quick or I'll be out of a place to live, people!"  
  
"You can't cooperate with us, even during the most routine testing, lashing out in a blind rage if we try. which is why we are trying to implement ways of you gaining control over it. or at least finding a better outlet than doc's lab equipment and my books." he said. "so we are going to go through with this ridiculous plan, because all of ours seem to have failed, and the expenses in damages alone are a little too high ignore." There was an underlying tone of aggravation as he said this.  
  
Having control over your inconsistent moods seemed nice, but you were pretty sure it came from the fact that at the moment, only more money in your bank account could fix this. No, no that was a lie. Money and a nice place and a damn good job would. But you couldn't _GET_ that with the snail pace you were going in this research. It figures that you had to have the only goddamn anomaly of a soul in a sixty mile radius. If this wasn't the epitome of bullshit creek. With a resigned sigh, you run a hand through your hair and give up trying to fight back.  
  
"So, this, little side project. It's gunna help me? Like, actually help me? With my stress or whatever?" you knew you sounded pissy and sarcastic. You didn't want to care. You wanted to wallow in that feeling a little bit and marinate in the salt that lined your very core.  
  
"yeah. and if it is successful, we can even find way for you to control your impulses during battle. if you learn to control that, then when we have you under observation next time, you won't destroy anything in a blind rage or get yourself into any more trouble."  
  
"I didn't mean to destroy the table! Or wreck the equipment... or mess up the documents."  
  
"yeah. my point exactly. look, kid, it doesn't matter what your intent was at the time. it happened. i think if we cant figure out a way of getting this under control, we're going to have to start docking the damages out of your paycheck. and given your circumstances? i don't think you can afford that."  
  
No. You could most certainly _NOT_ afford that. As stupid as this idea was, you weren't about to let your own pride get in the way of your financial stability. If that meant doing tons of menial tasks on the side to find a therapeutic way to not give a fuck, then so be it. It was like, brain yoga, right? Figuring out the best route to take to let out all the bad mojo. Really, how bad could it be?

* * *

  
This was an unmitigated **DISASTER**.  
  
Undyne woke you up at the ass-crack of dawn to go jogging with her. Which you reacted to with a string of colorful curses and as she dragged you from your apartment with a wide grin. Thank the stars it wasn't raining, but there was still a biting chill in the air that stung at your lungs unmercifully. She took you to a park that was still pretty vacant in the early hours of the day, handing you a spear and telling you to chuck it as far as you could. When you failed, she would laugh good naturedly. But you just felt frustrated with yourself for not being able to get it further than four feet out. So you chucked it upward, hard. And it never came back down. Undyne stared at you with concern, but congratulated you nonetheless. You could have complained and told her you were going back home after the first three blocks and first six tries with her spears. _But you didn't_.  
  
When you dragged your sore and winded self back home, Papyrus was waiting, already in your kitchen. He donned a bright red apron and filled your tiny apartment with his over-zealous admiration for the 'culinary arts'. He was incredibly good at it. Moving around the kitchen with ease and tossing spices here and there, too fast for you to follow. You spilled things more than once, and in your frustration, ended up dumping a whole dish in the sink full of uncooked food, ripping off your own apron and tossing it on the counter. Papyrus looked mildly hurt at the gesture. You apologized. You wanted to tell him you were just stressed about money and all of these dumb tests. That the lack of progress was making you worry. You wanted to tell him everything as you two cleaned up. _But you didn't_.  
  
Sans came by to pick Papyrus up not long after that, and handed you a book to read. It was about astronomy. You liked space, but could never remember the finer details about the planets or stars. Just vaguely remember key things you thought were the best or most interesting. He told you to visualize the planets as you read, try to see what their like in your head. So when you shut the door behind them after they were halfway down the hall, you plopped yourself on the couch and opened the book. But nothing came to you. Your head was so filled with doubt, stress, and a deep seeded aggravation that you were even going back to re-read sentences twice, attempting to make sense of them. Your whole body twitched with rage, and you flung the book, sending it sailing out the open window, smacking the concrete below with a distant 'thump'. It was stupid of you to have done that. When you looked out the window, you saw Sans and Papyrus standing on the sidewalk, eyeing your window curiously. You wanted to explain yourself, to apologize to Sans. _But you didn't_.  
  
Alphys came over and gave you a microphone to sing karaoke with, convinced that singing would help relieve the pent up stress. But you couldn't hold the tunes properly, getting more than a few cringes from her. So you shoved the mic back in her hands, and sat down, embarrassed and even more frustrated than before at yourself for ruining even this simple thing. She tried getting you to watch anime with her, but you didn't have anything to watch it on and you just weren't in the mood for company right now. You wanted to apologize to her for being such a downer, and being a massive brat to her despite how kind she was being. You wanted to say thank you to her before she waved goodbye, and left. _But you didn't_.  
  
So now here you were, back at the clinic after another week of this song and dance, under lights too bright, in a room too loud, in a body too tired to deal with it all. The monitors beeped, blank and pale green. The readings never giving Gaster more than he already knew about your soul currently. It had been two hours of sitting standing, speaking, soul pulling, physical exercises and blood tests. But nothing came of it. Nothing at all. Nothing new, anyway. And when his eyes glanced back to your weary face for the tenth time in the last fourteen seconds, you sighed irritably and put your face in your hands. Something soft touched your neck. Fuzzy, and warm. When you opened your eyes, it was a small plush keychain of a sheep. A fluffy cotton ball thing with two tiny eyes and a tiny pink face. It was for your cellphone. He smiled nervously as you looked up at him, taking the thing and pressing it to your cheek. And you were crying. Clutching the thing, unable to speak. You wanted to hug him, to spill everything out in that moment and let these awful feeling be done with. You wanted to thank him profusely for putting up with your shit so often. You wanted to gather yourself enough to smile at him thankfully. _But you didn't_.  
  
You were an absolute wreck inside, torn up and stressed out and unable to cope. And you had no idea what to do to fix it.

* * *

  
They're all sitting around the table in Undyne and Alphy's spacious apartment, drinks and snacks laid out haphazardly across the surface of it. Every face that greeted the couple was just as worn out and strained as theirs. There was a yellow legal pad sitting at the very center, multiple bullet points crossed out in red ink, black scribbles in various places. Every idea they had blew up in their faces, your stress levels only growing with each failed attempt at making it better. Everyone knew the longer you went without progress, the more dire the situation could become in the long run. Soon, you'd be directing a fist at the face of another living being, instead of the stoic, unfeeling, uncaring vending machine that squatted in the employee break room.  
they had been at this for hours, tossing ideas everywhere, left and right until the meeting area was little more than a dumping site for various odds and ends of notes and paper balls. Undyne was leaned far back in her chair, chewing on a pen cap, staring blankly at the ceiling. Papyrus had his head in his hands, concentrating hard with a pencil in his mouth. Sans looked like he was ready to doze off and Alphys just kept scribbling little swirling patterns absently on a note card. Gaster leaned heavily on his elbows, face pressed into his third cup of coffee, ready to call it quits on this whole idea. Everyone was exhausted, having gone through multiple suggestions and ideas only for each one to fail worse than the one before it. From running to swimming, from singing to anime watching, from cooking to action figures, from books to writing, from meditation to attempted heart-to-to-heart's, nothing at all worked. It was the last day of the month on the calendar, Undyne so helpfully putting a skull and crossbones on it to signal their impending doom of a deadline. If they couldn't make this work, then it was curtains for you. And given the fact that these monsters actually  _cared_ about you, that didn't sit well with them at all.  
  
But they were burned out. Out of ideas, and losing hope fast on their efforts of making any real difference at all. Papyrus was the first to move from his spot at the table, dropping the pencil on the pad with a heavy sigh and making his way to the living room to take his mind off of their predicament with some TV. No one else moved to follow, and he was okay with that. If he were lucky, maybe they'd all nap it off and wake up with a more brilliant idea than the others. He let the thought sit in his mind with a vaguely renewed hope and picked up the remote, clicking the power button. The loud theme music for his favorite Mettaton tv show had him smiling with excitement, plopping himself on the floor in front of it with a sigh. It had been such a stressful week. One he hadn't truly felt the weight of up until yesterday. Perhaps a distraction or two couldn't really hurt their productivity.   
  
He sat, enraptured for quite some time during the introductions and questions, pulling a pillow from the couch to hold and adjusting himself comfortably on the floor with a yawn. Then the screen shifted to one of Mettaton's live shows his bright and beautiful metal body glinting under the purple lights as he sang and danced around the stage flamboyantly. Papyrus admired the clothes he wore, briefly considering how they'd look on him, dancing around in his room, when the idea struck him. It was the one thing that he was certain no one had thought of. It was brilliant! Well, it would be if they hadn't tried it yet! So he had to go back and check to see for himself.  
  
He shot up from his spot on the floor, tossing the pillow back to the couch and running down the hall, skidding to a stop as he reached the doorway to the kitchen slamming his hands on the table. Sans jolted awake, looking around in a blind panic, Gaster looking at him curiously. Alphys fell from her chair in surprise, and Undyne snickered a bit at it. It was clear they were waiting for him to say something, to reveal the reason behind his obvious excitement! But Papyrus had not time to explain. He leaned across the table and snatched the torn up legal pad of their past failed attempts, eyes scanning the various scribbled out pages and red marks. The grin on his skull slowly lit up when he didn't see the idea listed in the long walls of handwriting.  
  
"what's up, bro? you look like the cat that got the cream."  
  
"You seem quite excited, Papyrus."  
  
"Yeah, what gives? You got a new idea or something?"  
  
"G-gosh you startled me!"  
  
Papyrus struck a pose, hand going to his chin gallantly. "I BELIEVE WE NEED SOMETHING MORE PASSIONATE FOR OUR HUMAN FRIEND TO RELEASE THEIR STRESS! SEEING AS HOW THEIR ANGER CANNOT BE SATIATED BY EVEN OUR CALMEST OF SUGGESTIONS!" He knew he was playing it up a bit.   
  
Everyone gave each other skeptical looks, but humored him nonetheless.  
  
"and what might that be, bro?" sans asked, grinning.  
  
"WHY, IT'S SIMPLE OF COURSE, DEAR BROTHER! IF IT'S PASSION WE'RE LOOKING FOR," he looked around triumphantly at their faces, giddily bouncing in place, "THEN WE CAN TRY _DANCING_!"

* * *

  
"Uh-uh. No way. Absolutely not. Not happening. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, you do _NOT_ win a million dollars." You were ready to shut your door in their eager faces at the suggestion, opting to lock it before they could push their way in. But Sans' sneaker prevented you from doing just that. Drat.  
  
"listen, we aren't any happier about this idea than you are!" he said, fingers going to grab the edge of the door.  
  
"You can lie on your tax returns but you cannot lie to me. I see that grin."  
  
"....this is literally the natural state of my face, you asshole." he narrowed his eyes, pushing the door open with a strength you didn't know he had in his small bony form.  
  
Alphys waved from just behind him, Gaster standing further back, rubbing at the spot between his eyes, looking annoyed. You were still in your pj's, a bowl of cereal in your hands, the soft sounds of a piano piece coming from the small speaker in your living room. It was mid-morning, the sunlight coming through a window in the stairwell and illuminating bits of dust floating in the sunbeams. The light caught Alphys' yellow scales and send corresponding light glittering against the wall. It was pretty. And just enough of a random distraction to have Sans walk in, grabbing your cereal bowl from your hand, stalking over to the kitchen and placing it into the sink.  
  
"Hey!! I wasn't finished eating that!" you yell. "That's a waste of goddamn food! I'm poor, you bonehead! POOR! Now I'll have to eat discarded Taco Bell lettuce from the garbage for the next week!"  
  
"too bad. get dressed. we're going to Alphys' lab. you've got ten minutes before I drag you there in your pjs." he pulled out his phone setting a timer, letting you know he was dead serious about that threat.  
  
"What?! NO! Can't I just get one day to-!"  
  
"ten minutes, startiiiing... now. we'll be waiting out in the hall." he stepped out the front door, swinging it shut.  
  
You had no doubts in your mind that he was serious. With a groan and a vivid string of curses, you grab a pair of pants and a sweater, making your way to the bathroom and running a brush quickly through your hair. This was bullshit. True blue, honest to god bullshit. You could do swimming, and running, and singing, and cooking and reading and meditating or whatever the hell else these yahoos wanted. Hell, you'd even yodel to a goat at the summit of a mountain. But dancing? There's a reason you never went to prom during high school. You had the serene grace of a beached whale attempting to break dance while on a motor scooter. This was only going to end in one way:  
  
With your ass on the floor, and more than few laughs offered in your direction, along with a lifetime of jokes and embarrassment that would probably follow you into retirement or something.

You pulled the belt closed around your waist and shoving your shoes into your untied boots. No chance at all to do laundry. So all you had was an old black hoodie, bleached a little on the left cuff, the glaring symbol of your poverty. Couldn't even afford to throw out the damn ratty thing. It was worn in places, the fabric thinner than your patience at the moment. Whatever. You weren't going to go see the fucking pope. You had just shrugged it on fumbling with the zipper, before a bony hand grabbed your wrist out of the blue, yanking it back. Sans' grinning skull leaned close to your face, tone low and serious.  
  
"times up." he said, dragging you from the bathroom and yanking you from your apartment.  
  
"Wha! Hey! At least let me grab my keys and lock the place, you maniac! I can't just leave my shit up for grabs! I have valuables in there!" you say, pulling back a little to grab the keys off the coffee table.  
  
"fine." he snatches them from your hands, shoving you out the door. "i'll lock it for you."  
  
He sticks them in the lock, and you hear a click. But instead of giving them back to you like you expected, he dangles them in front of you before slipping them into his pant pocket. He seemed amused at your look of confusion and anger. "incentive. so you'll cooperate with us. do what we say today, and you can have your keys back. give us shit, and you're sleeping in the hallway."  
  
He brushed passed you with a devilish glint in his eyes before making his way down the stairs, Gaster following without a word and Alphys apologizing profusely as you stood there in shock. That sneaky, manipulative little shit. And here you thought he might actually be a nice guy. What happened to that beautiful bonding moment in the diner, huh?! Was nothing sacred anymore?! Where was the shitty, cheesy Hallmark moment of character development and unspoken kinship??!! Fuck these skeletons and ghouls that took your cereal from you!  And all these tests and soul evaluations! Fuck this stupid town and the shitty government that ran it! This was utter bullshit!  
  
_Bullshit, you say_!

* * *

  
"I-it's a special machine I developed!" Alphys beamed, as the three of you stepped through the front doors of the large and fairly new building. "I-I was able to place it down in the basement part of the research facility, as per King Asgore's permission! This b-building was made entirely for monster use!"  
  
"Just monsters?" you said, looking around at the high ceilings and many windows. The floor looked like it was made from a special reflective blue tile, and it you briefly feared scuffing it before turning your attention back to the small yellow scientist.  
  
"W-well, when we first came about up here, not very many human were k-keen on sharing their labs and equipment with us. Which kind of, sort of,-"  
  
"it was a real dick move. so the king set out to make us a building made purely for monster use, so we could work undisturbed and unhindered." Sans finished.  
  
"Yeah, you'd know aaaaaall about dick moves, wouldn't you, bonehead?" you say venomously.  
  
"no need to pout, sweetheart." he said with an obvious smirk.  
  
"That's enough out of you two. Alphys, could you please explain what our plan is for today? Anything to keep the bickering at a minimum, if you will." Gaster said, stopping ahead of them and opening up a door to the stairwell.  
  
"O-oh. Right." she stopped momentarily and turned to you. "Uh, the machine basically creates and accurate map of the electric pulses in the brain responsible for certain emotional responses, and can choose music that perfectly suits your mood at the time! I use it a l-lot when I'm working down there alone. It really works! And s-since we don't really have any other place to do this at, I thought, y-you know," she shrugged uncertainly, "why not use my equipment to do so? W-we even have the proper means of monitoring your soul response to it!"  
  
Huh, well, that was... new? A machine that could choose music based on your mood? You had to say, despite your immense trepidation at having to dance at all, you were incredibly curious about this machine of hers.  
  
"but," sans added, "we need to do a bit of setup before we can get started on it."  
  
"Setup? What does that mean? And why am I not liking the subtle undertones there?"  
  
"setup meaning we need to first get you to a point where your soul power activates again. the only problem being, it only shows up under specific circumstances."  
  
"Specific circumstances?"  
  
Alphys looked over uncertainly at Gaster and Sans. The shorter of the two giving a shrug before motioning to his brother to take the floor. Gaster unhappily acquiesced.  
  
"In order for this to work, we need to repeat the previous actions from last week when we visited your apartment. It was the one and only time we were able to get a legitimate reaction out of your soul. And we intend to replicate it here, with the help of Dr. Alphy's, erm, 'machine'. It is a bit unorthodox. But then, being orthodox has gotten us nowhere."  
  
You turned cold. Did they mean the day with the dog? When you lost control and verbally beat up your best friend? That... didn't sound like a nice time to you. "What? What does that mean?"  
  
"It means," he said, moving to stand in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, "That we are going to have to make you angry. Since it was your anger that awoke it before. I know it might not be all that ethical on human terms. But I assure you," he leaned down, close to your face, "no harm will come to you. It might be uncomfortable to show negative feelings. But it is better to have a few moments of being uncomfortable, than have no money or job with which to support yourself."  
  
He pulled the money card of you, playing on your obvious insecurity, the douche bag. But... He had a point. A point you weren't really inclined to agreeing with or liking. This sucked. This sucked ass. Major ass. It was an ass vacuum that rivaled the qualities of a black hole. A big ass black hole in space sucking all the hope and fun out of your world. Words struggled to form at the idea of letting these people attempt to get you mad again. Sure, at first it wasn't something they were intending to do. It was all just you stomping around and stuffing away your own feelings in an attempt to lie to yourself and those around you. Which caused the inevitable and untimely deaths of more than a few beakers and tables and computers in the facility. You were guilty of that, you couldn't lie. But still... knowing that this time would be intentional didn't quite feel right. The idea settled in your stomach sourly. You didn't like this idea at all.  
  
You clear your throat. "Isn't there a-another way of doing this? Does it have to be me getting proverbially poked and prodded into anger?"  
  
The tall doctor's brow furrowed, standing back up to his full height. "I'm afraid I've gone over all other possibilities at this point. The only other option is to scare you, or to..." he trailed off, and then shook his head. "Look, the other two options are far less ethical than the one I am currently offering you. It is either this, or we fumble around in the dark for another three weeks before our paychecks, as well as yours, start seeing a little less money in them. Lack of results can make the head of our department a little... ambitious, with their displeasure."  
  
It was a shit predicament all around, and one you obviously weren't getting out of. It was stupid, and embarassing, and you really just wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep for a few decades. But problems didn't go away the longer you ignored them. They just grew until they were these giant hulking beasts, busting down your door and beating you up for your lunch money and discount food cards. You really, really didn't want to do this, but grit your teeth and push the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing hard.  
  
"Aaaaauuugh! Alright! Alright. I'll do this stupid, fucking, whatever it is. Just tell me what I need to do."  
  
With a poor attempt at a reassuring smile, Alphys took your hand in her claw and led you, as well as Gaster and Sans, down a long flight of stairs into the lower level of her lab. You were not sure you were going to be able to do this.

* * *

  
Loud, upbeat music blared over the speaker system in the large and empty room. Alphys jumped in her seat, moving to turn it down just a little bit, mouthing an apology through the the glass window set into the wall on one side. Both her and Sans were seated, ten or so monitors surrounding them, recording the room that you and Gaster stood in. They had the task of keeping tabs on the data the machine would collect, while Gaster had the oh so lovely job of instigating your soul, and subduing it if you lost control again. He was the only one of the three with enough HP and strength to do this job. You understood that. But still didn't like it.  
For some reason, Alphys stuck you in a weird form of a hospital gown. Not ugly by any means. In fact, it was kind of soft, closed off completetly at the back, but tied at the sides to keep it closed. Once again, you were allowed to keep your underwear on. Oh, but how would it all be complete without shit tons of tinier electrodes than the ones you had on at the clinic, now places all over your chest and back and limbs?? At least there were only two on your head. It didn't make you feel any less stupid, though. You made no move to hide your discontent, however. Pacing back and forth muttering curses under your breath.  
The music was annoying. Too loud and too fast. It had oriental notes to it, picking up speed until slowed down to a steady beat once a woman's voice sang in a low tone in japanese. Yeah, this was definitely some anime garbage or whatever it was Alphys pulled this from. No wait, it sounded electronic, almost. It could be that vocaloid crap she forced you to listen to sometimes. Why in the hell were you even thinking about this?  
  
"Uh, no. I am not dancing to that. Or at all for that matter. Seriously. I mean, isn't this supposed to be based on, like, science or something? I highly doubt science is a form of dancing!"  
  
"Maybe if you spent less time whining, you could make the effort to try before you berate the idea. As far as I see it, you haven't done much more than complain and break things like an ill-behaved child." It seemed like Gaster had no real problem with his intended role. Standing there with his arms crossed, a bored expression on his face, you could tell he was having much more fun than you were.  
  
You didn't take the bait, snarling in his direction before continuing to pace.  
  
"I do not have the time nor the patience for this. Just give them your phone, and let them plug in your music, if you aren't keen on letting the machine sift through hers while you play ballerina in here?"  
  
"Because MAYBE," you say through gritted teeth, "I don't LIKE anyone knowing my music tastes."  
  
"You're going to bitch about this, no matter what song is chosen. You may as well let them do it. There's no point in hoping Alphy's music will work here."  
  
"Maybe none of this will work and it's a stupid, idiotic fucking idea that IS LITERALLY WASTING OUR TIME RIGHT NOW!" you scream. "How does this even WORK?! Why does it even MATTER?!"  
  
"Stop being a shitty little brat and let them use your music. The more questions you scream at me the less you'll know. Need I remind you that your paycheck isn't the only one at stake here? The sooner you let this happen, the sooner we can be done with it. You can go off and throw a tantrum later."  
  
With resigned indignation, you shout, "Fine! You can use my fucking phone! It's in the left pocket of my pants. Just plug it the fuck in and power your stupid machine! I want to go home already and be far away from all this crap." Man... you really didn't mean that. You knew you were being an ass. But you couldn't seem to stop yourself. The nervousness and embarrassment making you pissy.  
  
There is subtle background static as they pull the cable out of Alphys' phone and plug in yours, setting the equipment back up and looking over to you expectantly. Gaster nods, setting up the room for a proper battle environment before checking your stats.  
  
"Huh. Seems I don't need to aggravate you any further. You did that all on your own." He shrugged at your glare. "Makes my job that much easier. Now, I want you to focus on that feeling. Close your eyes, and keep your mind on it."  
  
"What is this, some reverse mediation bullshit?" Your state of saltiness was in full blown bitch mode. And you didn't care.  
  
"Close your eyes." He instructed, voice hard like it used to be when you first met. His hands were behind his back. Eyes never leaving yours.  
  
You struggled with the urge to fight back, rebellious urges to shout and call him and old man burning in your throat as you clenched and unclenched your fists. These stupid sticky electrodes stuck to your skin for a second time since signing up for this shit job. Stupid antennas poking out of them, making you look like some space nerd in an alien outfit for a stupid convention. You bit back the insults clawing their way up your throat, snarling as you force yourself to stand in place. You still didn't close your eyes, though. The defiance in your eyes still challenging him. It was a last ditch effort at gaining control over the situation somehow, no matter how small. It was a vain attempt, by the looks of it. Because Gaster only held your look with a calm that belied his impatience with you.  
  
"Close them. Please do not make this any longer than necessary. You don't even have to dance. Trust me when I tell you that I am no happier about this idiocy than you are." to emphasize the fact, he placed his fingers at his temple. "To even think that this is what our research has come to. I don't even understand how this event came about. Despite my grief, this is simply something that needs to be done, now."  
  
His grief? What about your grief? You were the one expected to put on the freaking nutcracker suite for a bunch of quacks in lab coats watching you through a window!!  
  
"We might as well make the most of it. Now." he stood up straight again. "I want you to concentrate. Close your eyes. Focus on that feeling you're harboring right now, and we'll figure out where to go from there."  
  
It seemed nobody was budging on this one. So with no real subtlety about your aggravation, you slap your face with both hands and groan loudly. But comply. You close your eyes and focus on how pissed off you're feeling. Focus on how much like a guinea pig you feel. On how embarassed and afraid and nervous you are. No wait, that was too many feelings. Just one, he said, right? So which one? Uh, let's see. You felt angry and... anxious at the diner. So, are you anxious now? Yes. Quite a bit. In this big room with its dimmed out lights and tall ceiling and cold tile against your bare feet. But what could you do? You had to comply. Focus on the feeling. Focus on the feeling...  
  
You didn't get anything. Not at first. It was all cogs in your head, all wheels turning, stuck on themselves in your need to find some kind of reason to this seemingly meaningless task. You closed your eyes like he told you to, resting comfortably with you arms at your sides, holding still as a statue, brow furrowing with concentration. Everything was so still. Even the steady sounds of the machine behind the window seemed to slowly fade away from your reality. It didn't make any sense. Why would it feel so distant? Why did everything suddenly feel so distant. Something stuck in your chest began to burn, your arms feeling like fire all over again. You were tempted to open your eyes, but remind yourself that opening them was not something you were supposed to do. So you clench your fists, gritting your teeth through the unpleasant feeling. It hurt so much! Curling and licking welts of pain up your forearms incessantly. It felt like you were quivering again, sensations akin to jolts of lighting in your chest spreading throughout your body. Your arms felt heavy, too heavy for you to move them comfortably. To heavy to shake away the pain. Your teeth were chattering again, anxiety causing your stomach to lurch, making you silently thank your lucky stars that you hadn't snacked recently. It felt as if you were struck by the cold, as if winter itself were in your bones. But your skin... gods above, your skin felt too hot. A thick layer of burning lava running over a bed of tundra. It grew until the world faded out entirely. Everything around you a black void, a world lost as you became trapped in your own mind. Nothing but the chattering of your teeth in your skull, and the burning of your skin. There was a void behind your eyes, the lids glued together with some unseen force. Nothing to indicate a world beyond yourself.  
  
"It's time." came Gaster's distant voice. It sounded too firm. Too cold. Why was he so far away?  
  
A sharp pull in the center of your heaving chest had you gasping in pain with enough force to send you sprawled to the ground. You didn't expect it, didn't think it would hurt that badly! It hadn't the time before! Nor during all those tests in the clinic! So why? Why was it so painful? It was as if a part of you were ripped from your skin. Pulled screaming from your bones. An agonized cry tore itself from your lips.  
  
It hurts.  
  
_It hurts_...  
  
Memories against a bright white light, too blurry to make out played behind your eyes. Something was stirring in your soul, you could feel it. Wanted to fight it. But you knew this would only agitate the pain. Knew that fighting it meant ruining this one last stupid idea. You were pretty fed up with ruining everyone's day with your lack of compliance. So you exhale through gritted teeth, and allow it to spread freely. A heaviness weighed itself on your body. One of guilt. Of shame. Of deep regret. Of a selfish desire to break it all. It would always hurt, wouldn't it? Life, love, family, friends. It would always hurt. Always. Always...  
  
_***So if the world wouldn't change, then neither would you.**_  
_***If it hated you so much, then let it burn.**_

"Alphys!" there was the distant voice again. Resounding in the darkness, reverberating in too many directions. "The machine!"  
  
**_*Why am I always wrong?_**  
**_*I don't want this.  
_**  
Their smiles. Their faces. Your masks. Your lies. If the world cannot accept the demon you were conceived to be, then you would fight back in the only way you knew how:  
Without fear, and without hiding. Facing it until it all fell apart before you.  
  
"Stars, is that their soul?"  
  
**_*Shatter it. All of it. Here. Now._**  
  
"How... Interesting."  
  
**_*SHATTER IT._**

* * *

  
The soul was burning. Literally burning. Bright, maroon flames licking at the sides of it, coiling about it with a fury that he could feel in his bones. His own heart was on display, pulled immediately by the gravity of the tremendous sight before him. Whatever this was, whatever power you held, it was certainly on the brink of inhuman. As he stared at your curled form on the dark floor, he began to wonder if you were there at all anymore. There was something crackling in the air again, bursts of lighting sending bright flashes of light about in the room. Gaster lowered himself slightly, ready to let loose a flurry of attacks if this hypothesis didn't turn out the way they all had intended. A brief tick of his eyes over to the glass showed him that everyone else was just as enraptured by your soul display as he was. Never before had he seen such a thing. Your soul was a spectacular view of slow moving flames and a deep, almost guttural thrumming coming from it. Tenacity had finally awoken in all its glory, sending information to the machines just outside the room. But static data was useless. As idiotic as it all seemed to him, he needed something more. That contraption of Alphys' was all he they had. It was now or never!  
  
"Alphys!" He shouted, voice booming throughout the room. "The machine!"  
  
She looked startled, fixing her glasses with sudden, nervous shock as she hurriedly pushed buttons before her, and pulled the power latch to turn on the equipment. The small antenna on the electrodes that clung to your skin hummed to life. He held his breath, ready to fight you should the time come, hand over the ACT option beside him. He didn't know whether or not this would work. In fact, he was certain it wouldn't. Certain nothing at all would come from such an idiotic idea. Fully prepared to have to suffer his loses concerning time and effort. But instead, to his utter surprise, the soft sounds of music filled the room.  
  
He was so dumbstruck that the goddamn monstrosity of a contraption worked, that he barely had time to register the music steadily picking up in volume as your body rose from the floor. Your movements like a doll cut from it's strings, stumbling clumsily with no real understanding of how your limbs worked. Your head was down, but then the voice began to sing, and you lifted your arms, bending backward slightly, slowly spreading your arms to your sides. Parts of your hair were in your face, undone by the fall. You were moving now, in small circles. Dancing with no real intuitive understanding of what was a right or wrong step to make. Just... moving. Your arms, your legs. Well, one leg. Your left one did not move from it's spot. But the rest of you did. It was clear you didn't dance much. Or very well for that matter. Regardless, your soul was out and currently sending very valuable data to Alphy's machine. No matter how this turned out, at least they would not come out empty handed.  
  
There was hissing static behind the music, the voice getting slightly louder, sounds of a violin piercing the points between in a soft dirge. You were moving a little faster, arms splayed wide, leg stumbling slightly. Your face looked so agonized. Then-  
All at once, the room exploded with sound, the beat picking up, and you leapt from the spot, spinning wildly throughout the room, sending whips of fire all around you, twirling around your bare feet, dancing along the tips of your fingers.  
  
"Gaster!" came Alphys' voice over the intercom. It was thick with fear.  
  
"Don't stop! We need to record this!" He put up his arms, blocking a large whip of flame that was sent crackling towards his head. "No matter what, don't stop!"  
  
He didn't bother looking over to the window after that, eyes locked on your swaying form, face still filled with a silent fury. You told them you had never taken any lessons. besides what your parents briefly told you in pieces growing up. But the way you moved at this moment... Flailing, jumping, spinning and gyrating. It was wild, powerful, full of fury and emotion, despite its lack of finesse. Whatever this emotion was that drove the awakening of Tenacity must be the key to unlocking its abilities. If this revealed what that was, then they could pin point the driving force and see once and for all its true potential. Perhaps Papyrus' idea wasn't so idiotic after all. Gaster made a note to apologize to him after they were through here. If only he could... could...  
  
_How odd_. His thoughts became a little slower the longer he watched you. Forgetting why he had the ACT menu open again. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the fog. Focus, Gaster. Focus. There is too much at stake here. Eye-lights refocused back on your body as you moved across the room in a blur of wild motions and spins.  
  
The music seemed to blare to life again as you jumped one more time to the sudden swell of it, the voice screaming with such conviction. Flames were licking at your heels, burning footprints in their wake. Your eyes open briefly, bright and glinting as they held his gaze. There is another, powerful pulse in his chest, and suddenly he's reaching for you. Your hand meeting his as he reached out, drawn in. His mind was blank, unable to avoid your touch, nothing in his head telling him to question it. Only the feeling of your fingers lacing with his as you whirled about him in a fervor, those flames following closely behind. Your face was so close to his, the sweat on your skin glistening under those embers. He was losing hp, he could feel it in the way those ethereal flames singed his fingers. But he could not let go. Downright refused to. Everything slowing down with the sweet sound of a violin as tears ran down your cheeks, using his hand as an anchor with every flit and sway of your body. Every time that voice screamed, you gripped that hand tighter, pulling him closer, pulling his soul towards your own in an immense gravity he could not deny.  
  
He reached out an unsteady hand, touching the option hovering before him, eyes never leaving your face, your breath causing the smoke and embers to stir about your face.

**_______________________________  
_ **   
***ACT**  
  
**\--- >*FOLLOW**  
  
_**______________________________  
  
** _

His own violet light sprung to life around him, flowing like water about his feet, sizzling the moment it met yours. There were bursts of electric energy around your soul, now. Spider webs of purple light rippling over the surface of it. Gaster followed you closely, remaining in place and allowing this to play out despite his own logic telling him to let you go immediately and preserve himself. Yet there was something else pushing against that logic. Fiery and wanton, consuming him entirely.  
You led on, allowing him to lift you, pull you, dip you when you fell against his open arm behind you. You knew where he would be, he knew where you would move. Everything intuitive, now, as the soul magic nearly enveloped the room. This was so vastly alien. The concept of two souls dancing in this way. The concept of gathering proper data from your soul by doing something so... uncharacteristic. Yet he could not bring himself to stop. Not now. Everything crackled and fizzled and smoked all around, bright bursts of energy flung into all corners of the room. The ground no longer visible from it all. It was enthralling. Exhilarating being so close to something that felt so dangerous. Logic be damned. He would see where this lead. Find the other side to this anomaly. His HP still drained slowly, small amounts ticking away the longer those hands held his. Pain temporarily beat by the enchantment he felt.  
  
It reached a steady beat now, and your body came to a standstill before him, pulling away from him with a jerk, eyes closed again, body trembling. Your arms moved in a wide arch at your sides. It looked so much like the frantic flapping of a wounded bird. Weak and uncertain. Legs stumbling. His own legs moved without volition, stepping across the crackling flames, seeing the slight quivering of your jaw as your teeth chattered. Something was hurting you inside again. He was sure of it. You dipped your head once more, a wretched sob pulling itself from your mouth as you whirled once more, a small blistering twister surrounded by violet waters. A vain attempt to escape him before he stuck his arm out, catching you before you could get too far. Pulling you close again, all thoughts fading into the background.  
You were shivering against him and he could feel those gentle vibrations in his own body. Could feel his control blurring, his mind going blank. There were tears running freely down your face, and he could feel fangs forming in his mouth, sharp, glistening, wanting. His soul was quivering with whatever energy you were pumping into it. Those electric pulses now a cluster of maroon veins atop his soul, energy spreading throughout his body at a merciless pace. No logic formed in his mind, no sense of chivalry or subtlety as he locked his gaze on your face, wild with a desire he couldn't describe- that left him shaking with the need to act. React.  
  
To rend.  
  
To kill.  
  
_To conquer the weakness before him._  
  
His left arm steadying you to him, his other came up to cup the back of your head, pulling the wild locks of hair to reveal the flushed skin of your neck, the hammering of your heart causing the skin to pulse noticeably. Your breath was ragged, fingers clutching the front of his sweater. He opened his mouth, eye-lights gone, sockets hollow as those fangs formed to their full and ferocious length. Ready to tear into the flesh presented. Soft and warm and waiting.  
  
_Rend. Kill. Conquer._  
  
**_Conquer._**  
  
Something painful shot through his abdomen with a suddenness that had him stumbling. The starbursts of bright light colliding against him, one final act of desperation lunging out at the world around you as you expelled a large amount of energy from the center of your soul. Very much like a bomb going off against him in such close proximity, taking a great deal of his HP, his reason sent crashing back into his body, shaking him from his trance. Gaster was heaving, looking around in blatant confusion. You were still there, in his arms, head lolled off to the side, slowly sagging as the last remaining lights from your soul faded out with the music. You collapsed almost immediately, the dead weight a sudden surprise that had him nearly tumbling face first into the floor. He shifted his weight at the last second, getting himself into a kneeling position as he held your now unconscious body.  
  
Something felt... wrong. Truly and bone chillingly wrong in his soul. His fangs were still glinting, gnashing as he panted, trying to pull himself free from the staggering wrongness that lingered on him still. It was all he could do not growl at the vivid blur of blue and white that came before him, quickly snatching your body from his grasp. But when it did, everything shuddered violently and his vision finally began to focus. Gaster blinked, clicked his jaw, rose a hand to his chest, rubbing at the dull pain there. It took him a full minute to realize words were being spoken. Words he should know. He shook his head. Focus. Just focus on the sound. It was familiar, tight with worry and fear.  
  
"i'm gunna need you to talk to me, bro. i need you to tell me you're still there. i don't want to have to-"  
  
"It's fine, Sans." came his croaked answer. "I'm fine."  
  
His brother looked at him dubiously, searching his face with a pinched expression. "are you... your Hp is..."  
  
"Yes. I'm fine." he repeated, forcing himself to his feet. "Just help me get out of this room."

* * *

  
Upon entering the observation area, he noticed Alphys had multiple screenshots of the event, eyes wide with equal parts terror and wonder. She was typing something furiously, scribbling calculations on a notepad to her right, and clicking through more images. Both scientists knew better to disturb her when she was in this state. So Sans opted to lay your unconscious body on the floor, putting his lab coat over you, and folding up his jacket into a makeshift pillow to slide underneath your head. You did not stir once, completely dead to the world around you. It was unnerving enough to warrant a stat check revealing a perplexing bit of text he didn't know what to make of:

 **_ ____________________________________ _ **  
**HUMAN: _____**  
**HP: 1/6**  
**ATK: 0**

 ***Guilty**  
**_____________________________________  
_**  
Guilty? What the heck was that supposed to mean? Guilty about what?

"Sans." Gaster's voice sounded weary. "Could you please get me something to drink?"  
  
He nodded and shuffled his way over to the small cooler Alphys kept near her desk, yanking out a water bottle and handing to him. "here ya go, doc. you sure you're feelin' alright? you don't look so hot."  
  
There was a long pause. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"  
  
Sans slapped his skull, unable to keep a snicker from escaping him. "no, actually it wasn't. or at least, not an intentional one. guess old habits die hard, huh?"  
  
"Mm." he took a long drink from the bottle, the plastic crinkling from how fast he gulped it down. "Stars, I needed that." he wiped his mouth. "Alphys."  
  
"UH!! Uh, y-yes?" she whirled around quickly in her seat to face him, pencil rolling off the notepad and disappearing somewhere off too the side.  
  
"Please tell me we got something from all of that mess. I'm going to be smelling like a campfire for the next week. And I'd like to know it won't be in vain." Seems his humor was taking over due to his fatigue. With the way he leaned heavily atop the short grey filing cabinet, Sans was sure that he simply didn't have it in him to keep up that strict facade. Right now, it was Gaster, his older brother standing there. Not the doc. He even went so far as to roll his sweater sleeves up past his elbows and even moved to sit on the damn cabinet. Yeah. He was tired. And with the human out cold, he must have felt he could drop a barrier or two since it was safe enough company. Sans smirked knowingly when Gaster yawned obnoxiously, plopping himself down in the spare chair near Alphys, looking up at the surrounding images on the monitors.  
  
"W-well I. Uh." She toyed with her fingers for a few seconds before clearing her throat. "I was able to record all of the data from the energy that Tenacity put out for the five minutes you two were in there. The machine pinpointed the driving emotion behind it as anger at first, but it uh, hang on second."  
  
She moved a claw over a circular black device, spinning it a few times until she reached the footage she was looking for. It was alight with flashes of violet and maroon. Dark blossoming energy mixing, filling the corners of the screen with the colored likeness of a bruise. Gaster had his hand out, fingers just barely coming in contact with the human's. Both souls were suspended high above, veins of opposing soul power stretching between them. Something stuck out on the screen, however. Something dark, darker than dark. It was a negligible dot in the center of the Tenacity soul. But Sans and Gaster knew better than to ignore something like that. Sans rose from his seat, squinting at the pixels, eyeing the peculiarity.  
  
"i don't like the looks of that." he murmured.  
  
Gaster hopped off the cabinet, moving to lean over Alphys' shoulder and study the screen. His face seemed to fill with an unspoken curiosity as he spun the black device a few more times, shifting between the footage and screen captures. Sans knew he was searching for. Hoping that it wouldn't be found. If that was what they thought it was, then they would have a lot more to worry about than the head of their district getting pissy about deadlines. Instead of conducting tests to further their research for the progression of monster-human relations, they would be jumping through the proverbial rabbit hole in search of a red queen who didn't like to be found. The tense silence following the small finding further solidified the severity of the situation. Sans met one red queen in his life. And once was more than enough.  
  
He didn't think he had the physical capability to face another one too soon.

* * *

  
You awoke with a headache, a mild chill in your bones that stirred you from the dreams still chasing you into the waking world. You slap a hand to your face, letting it drop heavily over your right eye and cheek. Shit! Almost immediately, and angry throb went through your skull, completely pulling you from the haze of sleep. You blinked a few times, rubbing the blurriness from your vision. There was a soft fleece blanket on top of you, the feeling of firm cushions dipping with your weight beneath you, and the gentle murmuring of a nearby television. It took your eyes a second to adjust, focused on the top view of a black floor lamp near your feet and a popcorn ceiling decorated with adhesive stars. Nothing looked too familiar to your sleep addled mind, until the smell hit you.  
  
_Instant noodles and doritos._  
  
You sat up and looked around confirming your suspicions when you saw two blanketed bodies sprawled out on the floor, both holding eachother, while some weird cartoon played at quarter volume on a huge screen set into the wall. Which was also the only light source in the room. Save for the gentle glow of the kitchen light that bathed the walls of the hallway off to the right in a golden hue. The heat was on, the warm gusts of air ruffling hair atop your head from the vent above you, comforting you. You briefly debated going back to sleep but decided your head was pounding a bit too hard for you to doze off comfortably. That, and you couldn't seem to find you phone or your... Wait, these weren't your clothes. You were in some long shirt with thin pajama bottoms. From the odd print of dumbbells and electric lightning bolts on them, you guess these were Undyne's. But when did they?  
  
_Click_  
  
The light for the hallway bathroom clicked on, the familiar humming sound being muffled as someone shut the door. It looks like there was someone else sleeping over too, you guessed. Well, no harm in getting up and seeing if any of your stuff was plopped on the kitchen table. Maybe you could snag your phone and listen to some calming music to soothe the headache. Hell, there was no real science to prove it worked. But it certainly helped to take the edge off if it was gentle enough. You run a hand tiredly through your hair, feeling the knots in it as you raked your fingers through it. You probably looked a little scary right now. You didn't have long hair. Just a lot of it up there. And it tangled worse than a politician's lies on a good day.  
  
There was a gentle clanking of dishes from the kitchen as you swung your feet out from underneath the covers, carefully stepping over your two friends. Their gentle snores undisturbed as you snagged your sweater from the floor next to you and shrugged it on, pulling the hood over your head. It wasn't cold enough to have to zip it up, so you just shuffled quietly along the soft carpet, briefly glancing at the light under the bathroom door as you made your way down the hall. Gosh, it was so warm and cozy in this place. Wide hallways and practically new carpets. You felt more than a little envious of the well maintained apartment. Someday, you told yourself, you'd make enough money and get yourself something similar. Someday.  
  
The yellow light from the overhead kitchen light blinded you momentarily, your hand resting on the frame of the doorway as you peeked your head around the corner. At the same moment, a pair of grey eyes locked on to yours, face looking mildly startled for a moment, but relaxing into something else entirely. It looked tender, almost. Neither of you moved, glued in place, something heavy in the distance between. Nervous hands tugged at the edge of your shirt, toying with the fabric. For some reason, it felt awkward, your face feeling a little hotter than usual at the way those eyes never left your face, the intensity of it making you clear your throat.  
  
"Uh, yo. Heh. Didn't know you were over for the spontaneous sleepover too." you began lamely, your voice a little too soft. "I don't really remember falling asleep, either."  
  
Gaster picked up a mug from the space on the counter next to him, turning back to you. "Yes, you collapsed shortly after the test had concluded." The way his eyes darted briefly to the left made you think that perhaps there was more to it than that. "We must have overworked you. And for that, I apologize."  
  
You wave a hand halfheartedly, moving to take a seat at the table. "Nah, nah. It's okay. I mean, to be fair, I was a ball of stress and aggravation for the better part of the week. Maybe I needed to pass out. You know. Reset my internal wiring or something."  
  
That got a small smile from him as he took a sip from the white mug. He was wearing the same grey sweatshirt you had seen him in earlier that day, rolled up at the sleeves. But he had on black lounge pants that hung loosely on his thin frame. Your curiosity got the best of you, eyes roaming the different curves and dips and sharp edges beneath the clothing. It looked as if he was a skeleton, but his form filled out the clothing in a way that made you think that perhaps that was only half true. There was a clear definition to the arms in the close fitting sweater. A slight curve at the back of the... pants...  
  
"Do I look that strange without my lab coat on?"  
  
Wide eyes whipped back to his face, an amused smirk stealing away the previous tenderness with a knowing look. Luckily for you, you had the gift of gab. If you couldn't talk your way out of an awkward situation, then you were either dead or drunk. Maybe not even then. You clear your throat.  
  
"It's just, aren't those Undyne's pants? They've got a little lighting bolt on the thigh." You pointed at it, leaning forward on your elbows. "That, and seeing you in casual wear is kinda weird, so you're half right there. It makes you look less like a stiff doctor."  
  
Gaster looked mildly affronted, frowning briefly at the last bit. "Yes, these are hers. She was kind enough to lend me a pair. Although they are a tad short, they are much better to sleep in than my 'stiff' work pants."  
  
"That's funny. Because these are hers too. And I'm practically swimming in them. I'm like, 80% shirt and 20% pants. I don't even need socks, the bottoms trail so far, it keeps my feet warm just fine!"  
  
"Well thank goodness for small blessings."  
  
He was leaning back on the counter, setting the mug down next to him carefully, contents steaming slightly. You remembered your headache, having the idea that a cold glass of water might soothe it if it were dehydration and got up to snag a glass from the cabinet. Alphys and Undyne's kitchen was small, but bigger than yours by comparison. With dark wooden cabinets and nice marble counter tops. Even their kitchen table matched. You always enjoyed the afternoons you spent here before work whenever you got the chance. Being here like this, you were hit with how much you missed hanging around them. How much you missed their company when the days were filled with much simpler, consistent schedules. How long had it been since you last had a sleepover with them?  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You've been staring at that glass for a while now. Is it cracked or something?" he eyed it curiously.  
  
"Oh. Nah, I just got lost in thought there for a second. I remembered that I brought a mug here once, and kept it in their cabinet, since I was over more often than not." You move next to him, turning on the tap and filling the glass halfway before chugging it down.  
  
"Hm."  
  
When you set it back down, he was staring at you, hands placed on the counter behind him. He looked like he wanted to say something, opening his mouth slightly before shutting it again. Your fingers fidget with the smooth surface of the glass, unsure of whether to inquire or not. You were curious about the results of that test, curious about why you blacked out and collapsed, your mind fuzzy with images you couldn't quite place. You take a step forward, confident that being direct about it would be easiest. But before you could open your mouth to inquire, you noticed he had inched his arm closer to you. It was a twitch. A reaction that caught your attention. Your eyes meet his again, and he's staring you down once more.  
  
_Guhg, shit. Shit, I'm uh. Feeling weird? Why is he looking at me like that?_ You bring a hand up to check if your hair came our of your hoodie, and he twitches again, this time, just his fingers. Ooooh, BALLS. This is weird. If I just start talking, maybe the tension will go away. Yeah. Good idea. That normally works.  
  
"So, uh," suddenly the cracked voice of a prepubescent teen was born in your throat! Awkward, and with every sense of uncertainty lingering in that tone. You let out a huff of breath, a mock laugh. "The um. The test. What were the..?" Whoa, okay, he was no longer leaning on the counter. Gaster was fully turned to you, tall ass mutherfucker towering over you, that softness back in his eyes again. Your heart was hammering and you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why! _He was just standing there! Just standing! People stand! They stand around all day! They all stand so much, you can't stand them! They have stand up comedians!_  
  
He took a step closer, the warmth from his body making you feel small and awkward. A hand came up and placed itself on your shoulder, your own wide eyes flicking between that hand and his face as he took one half step closer. It wasn't like this was romantic! He was just close! Probably going to tell you a secret! A close secret! A closet! But you let out an uncertain squeak, your mouth opening and closing uselessly, eyes immediately shooting to your feet, staring at your socks. Wait, those weren't your socks either.  
  
"Hwa-hw-was the test results that, were they that, um, bad?" Nothing. No response. No movement. So you did the only thing your brain could do in a moment like this. That's right! Verbal diarrhea. Oh the joy. "S-seems like it might have been, since I kind of wrecked it by passing out. But I mean, if you get the information you needed then it shoudn't be a complete failure, right? I mean I shouldn't be! Ha ha ha! I mean it's got to be useful for something because it was a weird and stupid idea but something happenedsomaybethatmeansitworkedright-"  
  
The hand on your shoulder moved under your chin, tapping twice underneath it lightly. A familiar gesture that shut you up completely. There was heat in your stomach, thunder in your chest, lightning in your veins, your head felt light as you obeyed, letting those fingers gently guide your chin upward. Gods above have mercy, that face was so close. He smelled like coffee and smoke. Hooded gaze trained on your face with that you couldn't really handle right now. You were a strong sunofabitch! You weren't about to be outdone by some tall, fairly okay, sorta good looking, kinda, tall and nicely shaped monster doctor ghoul skeleton guy-!  
  
"The test went off without any problems." he said quietly, fingers still under your chin. "You did not wreck the test by passing out. That was a direct effect of my negligence. Not yours." Were those fingers trailing up your back? That... felt kind of nice. " _You did just fine._ "  
  
Okay, those words were spoken a little too low, and in a tone entirely too intimate. What the fuck was going oooooooonnn!!! And why weren't you stopping it?! Goddamn it, _____! Pull your head out of your ass and get out of there! You've known this salt spire of a monster for what?? Two, maybe three weeks?? Stop with this garbage and get your ass back to bed!!  
  
"H...hhhhhhhhh! H-h-how about the results?" goddamn it, must you sound like a small infant shitting itself?!  
  
He shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind of something, unsuccessful. "We won't have anything conclusive for another day or two while we run the analysis." came his soft mumble.  
  
The fingers under your chin traced the line of your jaw, brushing against your neck. Shit, that felt really nice. Your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your breaths a little shallow as you felt his other arm loop loosely around your waist. Gods above your face must be a fire light right now, with how much it burned. Those fingers were feather light against your skin, brushing up against the exposed skin of your neck and collarbone, peeking out from the over sized shirt. You were pulled to him, pressed solidly against his chest, thoughts turning into smoke as those fingers ducked under the hood of your sweatshirt, tangling in your hair, giving a small tug, tilting your head upward, his own shallow breaths sending shivers down your spine. He was so close fingers gripping you with a need you couldn't help but respond to, hands coming up to clutch at the front of his sweater, nails digging desperately into the fabric, letting him move closer. Everything was on fire, your skin, your chest, your whole body as you closed your eyes. You felt the slight graze of fangs on your trembling lips-  
  
Before the sound of a door opening had you both leaping apart in a blind panic, your arm colliding with the glass cup, sending it crashing to the floor. You prayed to whatever gods or stars above that it didn't wake anyone up and you swiftly bent down to begin picking up any larger pieces you could see. Gaster knelt down and pulled your hand away, just as Sans walked through the doorway, browbone nearly lifting off into orbit with how high they were on his skull.  
  
"you're awake? i thought you'd be knocked out for another several hours, kid!"  
  
"Hhh... heheheheheheheh.Yeah. Yeah! Well, you know. No rest for the weary and all that jazz." Your voice was unsteady, catching his attention, causing him to flick his gaze over to his brother, who was busy using his magic to pick up the large shards of glass and placing them carefully onto the counter until he could find a bag for it.  
  
"I, uh, wanted water. Well, really I wanted medicine. Woke up with a headache. Came in here for a glass, and it sort of just, fell out of my hands and broke."  
  
"you aren't hurt, are you?" Sans moved over to inspect our hands and face. "doesn't look like it. but kid. your face is about as red as a fire-hydrant. you aren't running a fever, are you?" his cool phalanges touched your forehead. His expression twisted with immediate concern. "you're burning up. go lie back down. we'll find some medicine for you. can't have you walking around in that state."  
  
"Wha? But I'm not. I feel fine-"  
  
"bed. now. non-negotiable."  
  
"But what about the broken glass?"  
  
Gaster, who had been silent up until now, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving you a slight pat. "I agree with my brother, here. Perhaps you should go lie down. Fevers are not to be taken lightly. It is best you rest for now."  
  
Well shit, after all of that? No way you're falling asleep anytime soo-  
  
"go." sans sounded serious.  
  
"Alright! I'm going, I'm going." You throw your hands up in defeat, shuffling around the corner and back down the long hallway.  
  
When you get back to the couch, you opt to keep the fleece off of you for a little while, letting yourself cool down would probably be best at the moment. Whew. Man. That was... intense. What was all that about anyway? You didn't think the doc had any real inclination towards you at all! Not in that way, anyway. You were polar opposites by anybody's observation. So why would he even give you the time of day? You lose your head over cute shit and he scalps things for a living. You think.  
  
Wait.  
  
_Shit._  
  
You didn't get a chance to search the kitchen for your phone!

* * *

  
"what was _that_?" Sans was angry, accusing.  
  
"It was nothing. I assure you. They came in here asking about the test." Gaster replied as calmly as possible.  
  
"oh, and i'm just supposed to assume that the metric fuck ton of magical energy that's still lingering around in here is just a very nice perfume?" he pointed at Gaster, eyes glinting dangerously. "you heard what doctor Alphys said, doc. no direct contact with the human until that energy simmers down. you nearly ripped their jugular out and didn't even realize it. we can't have this project go sour on us right when we finally have some tangible results of our research!"  
  
"I am well aware of this, Sans."  
  
"then act like it." he seethed. "even just _one_ slip up could mean the difference between life or death for _all_ of us here, not just the human!"  
  
Gaster clenched his jaw indignantly, wanting to snap at his sibling, wanting to throw the wretched pieces of broken glass at the wall in his frustration. He knew all of this. He was the one who suggested this project! And now he was the one who had almost jeopardized it in its entirety. Something about that stung his pride, fists clenching angrily at his sides. He knew opening his mouth would only cause a flurry of cruel insults to be hurled Sans' way. And despite his frustrations, he could not bring himself to be so uncouth. He was aggravated with the situation. Not his brother.  
  
Sans heaved a great sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm down. "i just.. i worry, bro. i don't want anything bad to happen to you, you know? and from what Alph told us about how their soul temporarily 'marked' yours like that, i..."  
  
Gaster let the tense muscles in his shoulders relax, forcing himself to let go of the burning feeling in his gut. "I know." He patted his brother's shoulder, turning to dispose of the glass quietly in the waste bin. "It's been a long day." he murmured.  
  
"Yeah." came Sans' quiet reply. "It really has."

* * *

  
"I-it seems like whatever energy they pushed out, um, combined with yours? N-no, that isn't quite right." Alphys was studying Gaster's soul as it floated just above her claw. "See these bits of color on it? It acted as an amplification to your own power, a-according to the readings."  
  
"so, what, the kid's soul is an amplification device, then?"  
  
"That is quite odd." Gaster's eyes scanned the veins of discoloration still lingering on his soul.  
  
"H-here, let me bring it up real quick." she clicked a few buttons on the monitor, bringing up the readings and data transmitted from Gaster's soul during the time of the experiment. "S-see these little dots of light? According to this, those are the areas responsible for core primal needs."  
  
"survival and breeding and stuff?" sans asked, looking to the white circles with interest.  
  
"Y-yes. Precisely." she said. "And from the looks of it, the core part of your soul responsible for breeding and survival mixed here, when they attacked you just before blacking out. This made it switch between survival and breeding too quickly for your body to process." her claw tapped a particularly large burst of light in one of the screenshot images. "The part of their energy they sent out at that moment, mixed with yours, and is still lingering in it."  
  
He rubbed at his chest, the dull throb never ceasing there. "What does this mean, then?"  
  
"It means," she said, handing Gaster back his soul, "That you need to avoid d-direct contact with them, until this energy dissipates. Otherwise, y-you might wind up attempting to kill them again."  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the small room with this revelation. Gaster had a general idea of the potential ability of Tenacity, but this threw him for a loop. It explained the situation with the dog, and the odd shocks to his system whenever whenever you were around him. It explained a lot, actually. But an amplification ability? What could that possibly be used for?  
  
"I highly r-recommend you steer clear of the human for now, Gaster." she said. "We don't know how strong the soul is or what this could all mean. It would be best to keep it under wraps for now, until we can be certain of its abilities."  
  
Sans nodded solemnly, looking over to his brother. Gaster didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to take that. But his curiosity burned ever brighter, the memory of heat on his skin still vivid in his mind. It was progress. A miracle to their circumstance, to say the least. But a deeper part of his soul felt unsettled, humming with an ill-sense of dread. He couldn't place it, or be rid of it. So instead, he looked up to them both, and nodded.  
  
"Understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIRTY MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT. IT STILL COUNTS!!!  
> ALSO!!!! I'm moving updates to Sundays, instead of Saturdays, since I tend to get a little lengthy with these chapters.
> 
> Psst!  
> Bonus points if you can figure out what two songs played in this chapter. Alphy's song, and then the one you danced to!


	7. A Short Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter where you sit in the heads of two skeletons for a bit. Not too long this time! But I still hope you enjoy it!

Waking up outside of his usual surroundings was new. Having an insane woman come into the guest bedroom screaming at him to wake up, nearly knocking the door clear of its hinges was new. Being up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, realizing he slept in for the first time in years was new. Sitting at the table full of food in a small kitchen with the radio on, blaring in the bright, late morning sunlight was new.There were faces smiling, laughing, tired, grumpy. Voices all talking to one another, occasionally shouting over the music. There was food on his plate, and sleep still in his eyes. There were no empty chairs in a too-large house. No coffee maker light greeting him and his apathy. No broken toaster. No alarm clocks. It was all so, 

 

_ New. _

 

You were sitting across from him, clothes wrinkled from sleep, hair sticking up at odd ends, yawning obnoxiously as you poured yourself another cup of orange juice. There was syrup on your knuckle, the fork still in your hand while you poured. Lazy, messy, and a little grumpy looking. Endearing was a word that came to mind. Slob was not one. Cute could have been another. Although he was sure there should have been something else in place of it. His chest still throbbed lightly, still clung to the after effects of fire licking at his bones. Your eyes met his, and you contemplated something briefly, before sticking out your tongue, scrunching your nose, and setting down the juice jug. How childish, he thought. You were an odd human. And one he had to work with despite his arsenal of questions and complaints about it all. He was the one, after all, to bribe you into allowing yourself to be a guinea pig under his care. Someone to experiment on and get more out of. You were his ticket to a higher place, a better idea coming about that could lead him down a path of potential success. He fully expected your hate. Your regrets. Your arguments. A backlash for all he had done. Instead, you were fighting off a grin, reaching over and handing him the jug, looking to be the perfect image of relaxation and companionability. That wasn’t just new, that was unexpected. And something he found himself clinging to as his hand brushed against yours gently..

 

Alphys cleared her throat briefly, before turning to ask you a question, eyes lingering on Gaster pointedly for a few seconds before turning her full attention to you. She didn’t need to explain what that gesture meant. He knew the no contact rule. Understood it completely. The effects of Tenacity still pulsing softly in chest. There were rules to follow since you were technically still a client, still under the direct guidance and watchful eye of the **HMRD** ( _Human and Monster Research and Development_ ). The head of his department still needed results from the anomaly. Still needed proof of their experimentation and progress. Gaster still needed to fasten you to the metal tables, pull that soul from your body, subject you to shocks, needles, physical exertion. You were a subject. A hypothetical muse. He understood what his job was. But… surely, outside of the clinic, things like this couldn’t really be all that harmful. It was just breakfast amongst friends. Just a day to relax before going back. A day to forget his lab coat and badge. A day to remember himself outside of that sterile environment. 

 

Something poked at his elbow, and he blinked, turning his gaze to his brother, grinning skull faltering slightly. “You okay, Gas? You’re looking a little out of it. Sleep alright?”

“Mm.” came his noncommittal reply, pouring himself a glass of juice. “I slept well enough. Just not accustomed to all of this noise, really.” he rubbed between his eyes. “I think your friend broke the hinges of the door.”

 

“Heh, that’s Undyne for ya. She means well. Breakfast is kind of a big deal around here.” he said, biting into a slice of bacon. “Thought i don’t think anyone expected us to stay the whole night. Spontaneous sleepovers can be nice though.”

 

Spontaneous, he says. All Gaster really remembered was watching Sans carry your body up the steps to Undyne’s apartment, glancing at the small scorch marks on his fingers occasionally. He remembered how his brother struggled to hold your weight against him, how Papyrus and Undyne shouted with concern after opening up the door and seeing your comatose body. There was talk of mistakes, of baths and food. She was insistent on having everyone take minute to relax and explain. Even going so far as to force Gaster himself into the guest room with a few clean towels and a change of pants. When he opened his mouth to protest, Papyrus just shook his head, hands going across his neck in a motion to encourage him to comply. He could have pushed back, it would have been no small feat to get out of that place in one piece, to be sure, but he could have made it back to his own place without much trouble. And yet he was still curious. Still stuck on what had occurred, questions buzzing and twisting in his brain. He wanted answers. Perhaps staying for a bit couldn’t be so bad, was his thought at the time. 

 

Being here now, chewing on a slice of toast and regarding the crew of oddballs sitting in his company was something else, however. He wasn’t a social hermit, not really. Yet being around so many people at once certainly drained him of what little stores of energy he had left after yesterday’s events. Even Papyrus’ booming voice did little to help his weariness at this hour, causing his eye to twitch every time he spoke. Papyrus meant well, he knew. Unable to keep tabs on his volume most days due to his insatiable excitement for life around him. There was no need to grit his teeth like this, scraping the fork against his plate as the agitation mounted. Stars above he was so worn out. His chest throbbed. His head hurt. He needed something to take the edge off his nerves right now. 

 

Undyne slammed her fist down on the table, rattling the dishes, her riotous laughter sending a surge of pain through his skull. Gaster stood carefully, mumbling something about needing air, and making his way out of the kitchen and out into the livingroom. It was much quieter, the sounds of talking and laughter muted by the carpet and thick curtains that were tied off to one side, letting in bright, warm sunbeams. There were blankets still on the floor, bundled and twisted together, dust dancing in the beams of light as it illuminated the brightly colored hearts and small thunderbolts on them. He heard his name briefly during a lull in the conversation, the quiet sounds of his brother’s voice saying something in response. It was quiet for a few beats, the gentle sound of feet padding down the carpeted hall towards him. When he turned around, he was met with a concerned looked from Alphys, gripping the corner of the wall, peeking out at him. 

 

“A-are you okay?” her voice was quiet, hesitant.  

“Mm.” Gaster sighed. “Just, a little tired is all. Probably not enough sleep. New environment, the usual.” 

 

He was moving towards the window, clicking open the locks, and pulling it open. The surge of cool air on his face clearing his mind, settling the tension in his shoulders and back. The small living space felt so confining, too small for his body. Too full for his mind. Everything wearing away at him like sandpaper to wood. 

 

“D-do you think, perhaps it could be the events of u-um,” she shuffled closer, claws fidgeting, “With the soul marking thing?” 

 

“Possibly.” he wasn’t in the mood to discuss it. Which surprised even him, as he rubbed irritably at his face. “We need to analyze our findings and make a detailed report for it. There’s a lot left to do. I suppose I’m not used to having a day with so little productivity in it. Days off are not familiar to me.” 

 

“S-sometimes taking a break can be a good thing for you. R-resets the brain a bit, you know?” she patted his arm gently, stepping beside him to stare out at the town below. There were birds sitting on wire, puffed out and tweeting in the cool air. “Maybe it would b-be best if you rested. We don’t know how long the influence of the human soul will last, or what any of this means. It would be beneficial to you to t-take a day off. To take a minute to relax.” 

 

Gaster shook his head, eyes closing. “We’ve made so little progress already. I don’t think we can afford a day off.”

 

“Well, the human deserves one then. Humans tire out far more easily than monsters do. Stamina i-isn’t a strong area for them. We s-saw the effects that stress alone had on them. We only just got them back to a level of stability t-that doesn’t have them blowing up at every occurrence.” She had a point, unfortunately. “So take today off, the whole day, and start bright and early tomorrow!”

 

The idea didn’t sit well with him. Didn’t sit well at all with his personal expectations and routine. Yet, having the human back at a calmer state of being would be more beneficial in the long run before they delved back into the thick of it. Before the needles and machines and bright lights came back on over their anxious face, staring back up at him in silent apprehension. Something about subjecting them to all of that again made his stomach feel a bit sour. He was getting attached. This wouldn’t do. It needed to be nipped in the bud, before he lost himself completely and jeopardized their hard work. Gaster looked over his shoulder, your voice echoing down the hall as you spoke animatedly about something. Getting closer at this point would only make things harder in the end. Distancing himself would make this easier. It needed to be done. 

 

“I suppose you have a point there.” he said finally. “We’ll take the day to rest. I will, however, be looking over a few documents in the meantime-”

 

“You can look over the documents, if you don’t leave this apartment, and stay away from the labs.” Alphys said, tone hard. “A day of rest means no working, no calculating, no experiments. It means nothing strenuous or taxing. It means relax.”

 

“How do you expect me to relax properly if I-”

 

“No arguments! W-we need to make sure everyone is okay again before we start down this weird road again. Work can wait. Right now, your well-being means much more.”

 

Of course he intended to relax, just, not to such an extent to where he couldn’t do some light calculating and planning in the meantime. It shouldn’t be such a horrible thing to try and do a few things in between during that downtime. But the way she was looking at him guaranteed that if he did not comply, a certain fishy female would come busting down doors again and strong-arming him into doing something ludicrous as punishment. So Gaster nodded once, returning his attention to the wire, the two birds still sitting side by side, a feeling of unease stirring within him. 

 

“It won’t be so bad. Y-you’ll see.” Alphys began shuffling away, before turning back briefly to say, “The documents from last n-night are on the shelf over there, right under the tv remote. You can spend some time alone i-in the guest room looking them over, i-if you want. I’ll tell everyone to give you some space.” One last kind smile was directed at him, before she disappeared around the corner completely. 

 

He stayed in front of the window for a few more minutes, waiting until the hum of discussion rose to its previous pitch, laughter dotted between voices, before he moved again. He shut the window, turning to pull free the curtain, shrouding the room in a dimmer light, blinking to adjust his eyes. He retrieved the documents, pulling up the thick stack held together by multiple colorful paperclips. It was a lot to read. But it was better than doing nothing at all. Gaster needed time away from the noise to recollect himself. Your voice rose above everyone else’s a second time, mirth in your voice as he passed, entering the guest room and quietly shutting it behind him. What he wouldn’t give to be in his lab, amongst scenes far more familiar than this room. But for the time being, it would simply have to do.

* * *

 

“-so you just put them in, and add a little more soap than water, and boom! Strawberry scented bubbles! I mean, they only ever have like, grape or watermelon or apple scented ones at the store, so I thought, hey! I can just make my own instead of wasting my money!” you had your elbows on the table, knees on the chair, leaning forward with a grin. 

 

Undyne sat next to you, legs stretched out over Alphys’ lap as she sipped her third cup of tea. Papyrus had his notebook out, eyes alight with excitement. You were sharing random stories of things you could make yourself, touting about the waste of money spent on things you could create at home with random objects. A lot of them were primitive, and some even downright counterproductive. But that didn’t stop you from sharing in your excitement, doodling awful little drawing of things you tried while Papyrus continued to ask questions, and Undyne continued laughing at some of the stupider ones. It didn’t deter you. You were going full force, happy and relaxed and full. Face beaming at every off-handed comments, snickering with delight when Alphys commented on the impracticality of water bottles tied to a oscillating fan. Pointless conversation with no real direction on a lazy spring afternoon. Sans was leaning back in his chair, balancing on two wooden legs as he regarded you carefully, keeping tabs on your stats the entire time you spoke. Your HP steadily went up as the hours past, your defense ticking up to a 1, attack mirroring it. He had no clue what made you feel the need to be even marginally defensive in such good company, but he let it be. The number was small enough to be negligible. You had trust issues, it seemed. Which was fine by him. So long as you weren’t acting out because of it, you were tolerable. And by tolerable, he meant not chewing his head off for every imagined slight during your high state of stress induced anger. 

 

The sun outside was high in the sky, late afternoon rolling around when everyone finally decided to clean up and head out into the livingroom to watch movies. Part of him wanted to dispute the idea of wasting time when they could be reviewing information and setting up a report for the head of their department, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. You were finally calm, the relaxed line to your shoulders and neck telling him all he needed to know when you sat down on the pile of blankets still littering the floor. Papyrus began chiding the two hosts for being so messy, before Undyne was on you, tackling you into a hug out of the blue, rubbing her face on yours, your laughter bouncing around brightly in the room. Papyrus took a step back in surprise, eyes wide when you were nearly knocked prone. Your arms shot out and grabbed Alphys, adding her to the pile as the three of you hugged and wrestled in a tangled heap. Sans took a careful step back, avoiding the possibility of becoming another set of limbs in that pile, his younger brother sighing with his hands on his hips at the display. You were happy. Happier than he had ever seen you. Arms wrapped so tightly around Undyne, squeezing the life out of her, breathless and pink in the face. Even Alphys seemed alight in the atmosphere, opting to help you in your attack on her girlfriend. 

 

It was silly. No real intention behind the action, the tv still off despite the purpose of coming here specifically to watch something. He didn’t intrude, though. Just sat himself on the couch with a grin, letting the three of you wear yourselves out enough to refocus. Or, that’s what he hopped would happen. What happened instead seemed to shift the atmosphere altogether. There were soft hiccups coming from where you had your face pressed into her shirt. Gentle sniffling disrupting the breathless laughter. It was a stark contrast to the earlier mood. The two friends seemed even more confused than Sans, looking to one another before pulling back to look at you. 

 

“I-I’m so h-happy. It feels like forever since I got to-!” a hand came up to wipe away at your nose. “I’m sorry f-for being such an ass this past week. I’m so sorry for giving you guys hell. I’m so sorry.” You pull them both to you, head down. “I love you guys so much. Thank you for being the best goddamn friends this shitty human could ever ask for.” 

 

It was a sentimental moment of connection, one he felt incredibly awkward witnessing. And it seemed Papyrus felt the same, since he had one nervous hand to his jaw and the other poised directly above your head. There was a moment of deliberation before he gently patted that head of messy hair, kneeling down and asking if you wanted some tissues. When you nodded, he was off immediately, bounding down the hall to the kitchen in search of napkins. 

 

He expected Undyne to laugh and shout something at you, clapping you on the back like her usual self. Instead, she hugged you back quietly, patting the back of your head. Alphys did the same, resting her head on your shoulder. Friendships like this were something not many had the opportunity to witness. Let alone between monsters and humans, with how rampant monster racism was around here. When Sans checked your stats for a twentieth time that day, your HP was full, with negatives in both attack and defense. You were being vulnerable in front of them, allowing yourself to let go of those walls a bit, in favor of showing love and appreciation to those you called your friends. To the ones you saw as family. Monsters made attachments far more quickly when it came to relationships or bonding when compared to humans. But even he had to admit that this was on a different tier than what he was used to seeing amongst his own kind. Something about you seemed to really draw people in. Humans and monsters alike. 

 

Papyrus came back with a small handful of what appeared to be paper napkins from the kitchen. He held two out to you, letting you smile bashfully before taking them and wiping the snot from your nose. His brother seemed mildly disgusted when you snorted after blowing your nose into the napkin. But quickly sighed and brought you in for a hug after you thanked him quietly. 

 

“Enough of this sob fest! C’mere, nerds! NGYAAAAAHHH!!!” Just like that, the moment was gone, picking up Papyrus while he held onto you, as you clung to Alphys. All three of you suspended in the air, equal parts fear and delight in those faces. There was laughter again, first from you in small snorts, then Alphys, before Papyrus joined in after she set everyone back down. Each of you regarded one another companionably before picking spots on the floor, the tv screen flickering to life, letting the warm atmosphere settle in and linger. 

 

He had been a witness to it all, not bothering to take part or interrupt. Yet, he still felt it nonetheless. A gentle warmth that spread in his bones, taking over his entire mood. It had him sliding off the couch cushions and scooting next to you, flopping his legs onto his brother’s lap in front of him, grinning at his displeased look. If none of you were going to do anything work related or progress related today, he might as well enjoy the small break while it lasted. You decided on some movie about a happy looking blue fish, setting aside the controller after adjusting the volume. There was a moment of shuffling as everyone settled in,leaning on or holding someone nearby. Papyrus now had two sets of legs on him, both yours and Sans’, while he laid his head on Undyne’s legs. She had an arm around Alphys’ waist while she rested a head on her shoulder. You were leaning against the couch, an arm coming up and wrapping around his arm. He leaned into it, letting himself indulge in the moment. 

 

Maybe a break is what they really needed. And hey, what’s one quick one out of the hectic days that preceded this one? No harm in being a little lazy. Sometimes, it’s exactly what you needed to cure the stress of everyday life. 

* * *

 

There was a lot of information to sift through. Plenty of the papers littered with notes scribbled in the margins. The pen in his hand tapped away at a nearby lamp stand, the habit a hard one to break for him while he was deep in thought. It was any real wonder he hadn’t broken the damn thing at this point. But, it was well used and sturdy enough to withstand such constant abuse. So he continued, mumbling to himself occasionally, hoping that reiterating the information out loud would help him find connections to them. There was the data spat out by the machine- nothing but numbers and figures and names that he needed his lab equipment for in order to properly put into a manageable list of information. That was set aside in a separate pile for later review and sorting. The sunbeams outside were on the ceiling, now. Gold and fiery, distant birds singing, the familiar sound of a church bell echoing, signaling the late hour. There was only a few things left to look over and jot down. It shouldn’t really take that long. Yet, his eyes were stuck on your file. Your face staring out at the world with a blank expression, average appearance easily forgettable to anyone looking over the information. You were unremarkable in all aspects. Even your answers were inconsistent and choppy. Ranging from awful humor to witty replies to awkward tangents. And then there was that awful drawing of the dandelion. There was a smile creeping up on his face, despite his best efforts to fight it back. It really was a terrible drawing. One he’d have to save for a rainy day, at some point. 

 

The information regarding family, friends and jobs really did bounce around quite a bit. It was any real wonder how you came about this town in the first place. When you walked into the clinic, a stranger, you were nothing but a ball of agitation and silent worry. Sitting atop the old stood, swinging your feet, checking your phone periodically to avoid answering questions or meeting his gaze. He remembered your awkward coffee comment. The way you grimaced whenever you ate the granola bars. The way you argued with him every day. Was it really a little less than a month ago before you came around? For some reason, it felt longer. Like your incessant rambling and loud laughter had always been there. Always fighting him on some matter. Always napping in the breakroom. Always complaining about something. Like a natural part of a puzzle clicking into place in the subtle lull of life that surrounded him.

 

A throb in his chest had him rubbing the spot tenderly, flipping through the last of the pages on your information, rechecking any previous notes he had written there. Nothing new, really. A lot of his assumptions were only partially correct, some of the information skewed from the moments of high stress before he actually got to know you, and only saw you as a pest. But now was not the time for reminiscing. There was still plenty of paperwork to sift through. Still work waiting for him once morning came about. Not to mention the report he had to put together from these recent events. Perhaps he should head out now, before he got roped into another night in this place. Better progress could be made once he was comfortably back in an environment that had the proper tools to get things done. While he was at it, he could dispose of any copies he had in those stacks since he already fit what little data he needed into a cleanly organized stack of notes he fit into a large envelope. 

 

Gaster rose from the reading chair that sat to the right of the small window, stretching out his back and shoulders with a long sigh. The room was a little darker than before, the beams of light now a dim glow that barely illuminated the walls. Outside, street lights clicked and hummed to life. Had he really just spent an entire day sitting around organizing information? That felt like a lazy form of productivity, but it was something, at least. Stars above, his back groaned with pain at how long he sat in that chair. How could Sans fall asleep sitting down so often, if this is the repercussions it had on the body? He would need to remind himself next time to walk around for a bit the next time he decided to do this. With a groan, he began picking up the scattered files that sat around on various surfaces in his endeavor. 

 

There was a knock at the door, startling him slightly. “Hey, doc? Mind if I come in?” It was Undyne. 

 

“Yes. You may come in.” he said, still scooping up papers.

 

She pushed open the door, eyebrows high on her head when she saw the mess. “Jesus, dude. Were you trying to find Waldo in those papers? Just how many files did Alph leave you?”

 

“Enough to preoccupy my time for,” he shook his hand, shifting the cuff off his watch, “approximately six and a half hours.” 

 

“I don’t want to say you have a problem. But you might want to get out more.” She smirked. “But that’s besides the point. I came in here to ask you if you can take _____ home.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, Papyrus fell asleep in the livingroom, and Sans wanted to take him home, since he has work tomorrow. And I can’t have _____ sleeping over tonight, since I have work early tomorrow morning, and so does Alph.” She began picking up papers, handing them over to him, helping him fix up the room. “I don’t want them walking home alone at this hour. In case you haven’t noticed, they live in a shittier part of town. I don’t want them getting hurt out there. So, think you can take them?”

 

Gaster contemplated this for a moment, remembering the stern warning from both his brother and Alphys herself about keeping away from the human until his own energy returned to normal levels. Would it really be wise to be in close proximity to them? Would that energy act up if you were near? And what if it acted up out in the open, with so many people around to witness it? That would not bode well for him. Or for the company for that matter. Undyne must have sensed the hesitation, because she patted his back. 

 

“Don’t worry about having to walk the whole way. It’s pretty far out, so you can just take the subway train out past Kefler Street. It’s a short ride to their neighborhood, and the last train leaves at ten. So you should make it there in time. You can borrow my card, since _____ has their own. Just wave it front of the machine, and it should let you through. You can hand it back to me whenever you get a chance to stop by again.” She flashed a toothy grin reassuringly.  “Just make sure they get back in one piece! Don’t leave until they walk through that front door, you hear me? They get hurt, I’ll have your ass!”

 

A look of concern was stuck on his face as he pulled back slightly from her, files in hand. “Well, since it’s obvious I don’t have much of a choice in the matter…” he mumbled. “I’ll grab my things and be out shortly.” 

 

Undyne laughed, patting him on the back more roughly this time. “Awsome! Let me go wake them up and grab the train card. Remember! If they don’t get back in one piece-!”

 

“You’ll use physical force to ensure I pay for my carelessness. Yes, yes. I understand.” 

 

She pointed at him with a nod, and left the room. Gaster stood there, unable to decide if this was an inconvenience or not. Since he came here without his own vehicle, he could always utilize the train card to get himself back home instead of wasting money on a cab. He supposed it could work out. After all, he just needed to be careful of physical contact and ensure that he set down ground rules for himself before accompanying you home. It couldn’t be that hard, really. He was capable of handling himself for a short period of time next to you, surely. With a nod to himself, he set about gathering the last of the files and clipping them together, grabbing his pants and heading to the side bathroom to change and gather the rest of his things. 

 

When he finally came out, adjusting the collar of his jacket, papers folded and stuffed into a large pocket lining the inside, you were standing at the door waiting for him. You were back in the clothes you wore during the last experiment. The sweater you wore sporting an odd bleach stain on the left cuff. You smiled and waved at him, small drawstring bag hanging off your shoulders. 

 

“Heya! Ready to head out?” he nodded at you. “Thanks for walking me home. I know it kind of sucks being stuck with bodyguard duty. But Alphys is knocked the fuck out, and Undyne didn’t want her walking out there this late. Since Sans and Paps are nowhere in sight either, you were the only other option.”

 

He didn’t understand why you felt the need to explain yourself, shifting in place and rubbing your arm awkwardly. The reason itself didn’t matter. He was there to keep you safe, something he had been doing for weeks now. But disputing it was useless. Instead, he scanned the darkened apartment, an unspoken question lingering there when he looked back to your expectant face.

 

“Both of them went to bed after they said goodnight. They gave me the spare key, so I can lock the door behind us when we leave.” 

The two of you stood awkwardly together, unsure of what to do next. When it was clear neither of you were going to make a move to say anything more, Gaster moved to open the door for you, nodding in your direction. 

 

“Alright, let’s go. You know the way to the station, right? I am familiar with the path after that. But I don’t think I can find my way there from here.”

* * *

  
  


He was just walking you home. Just making sure you were alright on your own before he dropped you off at your apartment building. He only wanted you to be safe. Take the subway train downtown, walk them to their apartment. Make sure they were alright, then go home. Simple. The two of you had just gotten off the train, walking up the stairwell and out into the buzzing life of the city.

 

_Stop talking to them._   
  
Your voice was alight with humor, dancing around in your eyes like gems in the dark, the glint of the city lights blazing in those dark depths. You were talking about everything. Nothing. Rambling again like you usually did. Was this time any different? He couldn’t remember. Something about the way you stumbled to keep up with his long strides had him amused. You were so much shorter than he. How could you possibly fend for yourself? Of course he had to walk you home. Care for you before he let you be. Who else would take care of you in your times of need? Certainly not his lazy excuse for a brother. Nor Undyne, with how often she worked, or Alphys with her numerous projects and side jobs. And Papyrus was too busy with his own work and training. Granted, Gaster was no different. He held a full time job himself, muttering and calculating and meandering away at his work, almost all hours of the day. But surely he was the most qualified when it came to you? Surely. 

 

_ Don’t touch them. _

 

You had something in your hair, sticking to one of the shorter locks of hair. It would be rude to let you walk around like that, wouldn’t it? His hand brushed against your forehead as he ran his fingers absently through those messy strands. How was it that you could look so disheveled after only twenty minutes being outside? Some of those strands got in your face, wide, dark eyes blinking up at him, asking him a question he wasn’t really paying attention to. But you were smiling at him again, laughing at his lack of attention. When really, his attention was entirely on you. Vibrant and buzzing, like a small firefly in the dark. He could feel the pulse of your soul near his, small tendrils of energy reaching out to his. Beckoning him closer, pulling him in further. Your hand touched his atop your head, pulling it down, squeezing it briefly. Touching was something he wasn’t allowed to do. But gloves couldn’t cause any harm, and he could even use it as an experiment. See if there were any ill effects from it. It couldn’t hurt, could it? 

 

_ Keep your wits about you, don’t lose sight of our objective. _

 

Your hand was in his. Warm, dry, soft. The city was alive around him, bright and bustling and utterly overwhelming. A plane flew by overhead, and for the first time in a long time, he watched it soar completely out of view, stopping in place to watch it go. Music was playing somewhere close on a speaker. Probably a nearby club, with how the heavy base from the electronic sounding music was, and how heavily he felt it beneath him. There was neon blue everywhere, mixed with bits of green and yellow. City life really was something else. 

 

_ Don’t lose yourself, Gaster. Stay focused.  _

 

The air was so cold, the crosswalk filled with cars zooming by and many different people standing around. It would be so easy to lose you in all of this. He has you in his arms now, holding you close, letting the steady thrumming of his soul hum along with yours. The gentle tune in sync with a feeling of warmth spreading through his chest. You were hugging him back, laughing. He didn’t understand how or why, but that sound made him happy. Made him content to watch. To look at the way you shone under those lights. At the way your nose and cheeks flushed such a nice shade of red. Something was nagging him in the back of his head. Something shouting at him with a ferocity he could no longer seem to pinpoint. But it didn’t matter right now. How could it? When you were right here, and so close, too. Walking near him, holding his hand as you crossed the road. Pointing and rambling, smiling and laughing about something he said. Something he did. It must have meant the world at one point, that screaming voice of reason in the back of his head. Crying out for attention. It didn’t matter, couldn’t matter now. 

 

_ Focus… _

 

The old door to the dilapidated apartment building was in view, you were walking up the stairs, hand still in his, looking abashed at the fact that you had forgotten to let go of him. Looking embarrassed at having talked so extensively about nothing at all. It was too endearing, too sincere not to merit at least a chaste kiss to the palm of your hand before he pulled you in for one last hug. Just one hug. It couldn’t hurt. Couldn’t hurt…

 

The ringtone signaling a call from Sans blared from his coat pocket, obnoxious and intrusive. Shattering the tender moment, breaking you away from him with a resigned smile that tore him in two. It shouldn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t sadden you that way. You were telling him to answer it, a gentle hand on his arm, telling him goodnight. That couldn’t be it. That couldn’t be all. His grip was like iron on your wrist, a pleading in his soul for one more minute. A second, even. 

 

_ It’s Tenacity. Don’t be fooled by it. It’s firing off energy targeted at your core primal instincts. That’s all. That’s all… _

 

Stars the pain in your face was enough to break him. The way your hand trembled in his grip, the way you took another step back down toward him, gnawing at your bottom lip apprehensively. There was a decision being made behind that look, one he felt. One that made him yank you down the bottom two steps and back into his arms. Gods, the way you whispered his name again, shaking and unsure. He couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t stand not to touch you, hear you, feel you. He tore off his gloves, letting his hands touch your face and stroke your hair, tracing along your jaw, stroking your cheek. It was one touch. Just one touch. It couldn’t hurt.    
You didn’t fight it, didn’t push him away, your own need shining brightly the longer his hands stayed on your skin, bottom lip trapped between those teeth the more nervous you became. One finger gently pulled it free, stroking at the red spot left. You smelled so nice, so warm and inviting, it couldn’t hurt. Couldn’t hurt..

 

Your lips were so warm, so soft. Taking the breath from you was a beautiful thing, feeling you cling to him the second his mouth cut off any protests you may still have had in that mind of yours, absolutely intoxicating. A cold breeze blew, stirring around his feet, your arms wrapping around his neck when he pulled back just a bit to look at you, eye-lights bright with desire. You were staring at him, pressed to him tightly, his arms holding you up, pulling you impossibly closer as he leaned in a second time, this kiss more hungry than the last. The world didn’t exist. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else ever would. Not when you were saying his name like that, shaking as you cupped the back of his head so gently. Everything melting away when he ran a thumb idly over the exposed skin of your stomach where your jacket rode up. Truly, nothing else would ever matter again, so long as you were so close, so sweet against him. 

 

The ringing in his pocket ceased, only to start up again, feeling more obnoxious than the last. This time, you pulled away, fingers gently rubbing at the back of his neck, soft breaths warm against his face. He wanted to pull you back, make you whisper his name again, take you home with him, hold you close just a little longer. The way you felt, the way his soul sung, Gaster swore you had never been a separate part of him. Swore that you had always been there, always been a light in the darkness, rambling and shouting and laughing. You were a part of him. How could you be anything but? That is what his soul, your soul, seemed to sing. 

 

But you were moving back, planting one last warm kiss to his cheek before sliding away from him, lingering blush adding a hint of something tender to the smile you gave him. The pain that met him at the absence of your heat, the press of your body, left him lost. Unable to move when you ascended the steps and waved before disappearing behind the door. The world seemed to lose something just then, the throbbing in his chest back with a full force. 

 

He wanted to distance himself from all of this. Ensure that you would not become a hindrance to this project, to his work. It had to end, that is what he told himself. It had to be done. So then what exactly was he doing? Loud music blared to life a third time in his pocket, and he picked it up, staring at the familiar face on the screen, apathetic and feeling more than a little empty. Gaster shoved the offending thing back in his pocket and began walking back towards the subway station. It was a long way home without his car. One he thought he wouldn’t have minded much with a little company. He’d make his way back, and call Sans back from there. For now, the growing silence around was enough. For now, he just wanted to think. 

* * *

 

Gaster never answered his phone. That was several hours ago. He had been staring at the blue light from the motem reflecting off the high ceiling above him, unable to sleep again. Too many images shifting, burning, warping and screaming. Too many demons in the shadows, claws digging away at what little rest he could salvage once he had his head to the pillow. Staring at the ceiling in a zombie-like state wasn’t helping him any. So here he was, shoes crunching on the concrete, chilly air dancing around his bones as he staggered along sleepily through the empty streets. His head was blank, void of anything but a thick fog that dissipated briefly when he stopped at a crosswalk, eyeing the only two cars on the road as they passed. Stars, he was so exhausted. Losing sleep was nothing new to him, to be sure. Insomnia was a constant mistress to his nighttime routine. Always lurking around the corner, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike out at him, robbing him of what little reprieve he could find in his sleep. It could just be the stress of everyday life. Money. Bills. Keeping Paps happy. The permanence of his actions as well as those around him. No room for mistakes. Working at a massive human sorting headquarters that dictated the fate and lives of literally thousands. He got paid well enough, and the **HMDR** even had a similar clinic set up for monsters. One to categorize their specific capabilities, and give them jobs in corresponding areas. Not so different from the human ones. It was innovative and revolutionary in the world. Setting up jobs for millions and ensuring a better future for everyone. Or so they said.

 

It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, really, from where he stood in this line of demons. Everyone had their fair share of blood and guilt haunting their steps as they walked through the sterile halls of the many ‘clinics’ lined up for good and proper human use. Hundreds of feet trekking through, monsters and humans alike, behind white washed walls all across the globe, now. All stuck in their heads believing themselves to be saved by some miraculous second chance at life, while some stranger stood there with a clipboard and a family under the gun at home. There was no life in those halls as those apathetic hands decided their fates. Sometimes, he liked to pretend they found a happier end. A happier state of being after leaving those doors. But most days, it wasn’t enough. He knew where they went. What they did. What happened to them. Felt it like a sickness in his bones growing in weight until he practically dragged himself from the couch in the morning, fighting off the demons still fighting to keep him dead to the reality whispering in about his skull in the darkness of his closed sockets. 

 

It was scary, to see how fast your empathy failed you when the weight of your work pressed upon you at all waking hours of the day. To see the lives of a species you swore you cared nothing for being decided by a faulty system that touted its own revolutionary wisdom amongst the poorer masses. It was a perfect idea, they had said, all lined up prettily in their sunday best at the ceremony during the official treaty. A method to determine a better future career-wise for both monsters and humans. ‘Clinics’ were created all around the globe. Ones for monsters and humans alike. Monsters were sorted based on their actual capabilities; strength, charisma, problem solving, elemental uses, etc. It was an easier time on them, finding places they could go, and jobs they could do. Not all were happy with it, since monster racism was still heavy, and many felt uncomfortable accepting them. But being unhappy with a few ill-appointed nicknames and slanders was nothing compared to the hell he wrought with his own hands. To the families torn apart, the fear and uncertainty in the faces that clung to his lab coat, begging him for a second opinion. Another check on their soul. Anything at all.

The sudden hazy memories made his legs feel heavier than usual, his mind briefly registering stone steps off to his right. Sans stumbled over them, bracing a hand against the railing, landing heavily on one of the bottom steps with a grunt. He didn't like it when these thoughts replayed. Didn't like when he was forced to remember the things that he knew could never be fixed. Could never be repaired. Not anymore. Despite his obvious reluctance, it played out nonetheless, lapping at the edges of his brain like luke-warms waves. Incessant, uncomfortable.

 

He attempted to save a human once. And only once. An engineer, brilliant in mind, with a soul value in Kindness. He was given a job in counseling, since his kind of soul was not necessarily useful in his current job. The spot given up for someone else with a correlating value the head of his department needed. It wasn’t long before he spotted him in the bar down the road from the clinic, head resting atop folded arms, shoulders shaking quietly as too many empty glasses surrounded him. The guy was kind, but had no real talent for helping others as a job. It wasn’t much later that he saw him again, strung up by the neck from a pole, his smiling portrait all that was left of him as it displayed on the television screen that morning on the news. There were entirely too many flaws in the system. To many things wrong with it’s execution. But he couldn’t say anything about it. Couldn’t do anything about it. He was one monster. One amongst many in this new world. And a lazy one when it came to confrontation, at that. He vowed to himself to never get involved again. Not when it meant he had to see the damages it wrought directly. Not when it would eat away at him all over again like this. 

 

He ran a tired hand over his skull, letting out a breath through his teeth. The cold air creating a cloud before him, before it dissipated, floating away above his head, towards the light polluted sky. It was too late at night to be sitting there, too cold and too dark for him to be thinking about these things. The concrete steps siphoning what little warmth he had left, eyes watching the shadows dance on the cracked asphalt in a nearby alleyway as someone moved across a brightly lit window. Neon green and blue glimmering and reflecting on the cars as they sped by. A voice shouted in a different language, distant sirens echoing off the broken buildings surrounding him. The sounds of thudding shoes and animated conversation, quiet murmurs of life and the bright lights of city life filling the air. It was too noisy, too much. Ugly, and beautiful all at once. Humans and monsters walking tired lines, working behind windows, talking, living, existing. You once told him that you loved nature, but that the city life had its own kind of charm once you got used to it. Convenience, he had guess, from the way you shrugged as you said it. There was something more there, he was sure of it, but he didn’t inquire. Then, he never really did, did he?

 

He pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the back of his shorts, hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket out of habit. If his mind was turning to you, then he really did have a lot more walking to do before he let himself go back home. Sleep deprived eye sockets scanned the area absently as he began to walk again. Something in the back of his mind began ringing with familiarity. Niggling at the edges of his memories in a vain attempt to drag the pieces together. It was a mess in his head, nothing quite matching to the brief flashes in his mind the harder he stared at the dilapidated buildings and occasionally spray painted street sign. Something about this place was… 

 

A distant metal clang in the alleyway to his right had him on edge, hands clenched as he whipped toward the sound, ready for a fight. It wouldn’t be the first time he was nearly jumped by a drunk and disgruntled human. It wouldn’t be the last. And if Sans were being honest, some deeper, darker part of his soul  _ wanted _ to take out his exhausted frustration on the first asshole stupid enough to give him hell. But there was no staggering human waiting in the darkness. No disgruntled demons waiting for his demise in there. Just the gentle rustle of a paper bag in the wind, bumping up against a rusted dumpster at the far end of the alley. There were clothes hanging from a line high above, swaying like pale ghosts against the dreary brick backdrop. Nothing there. Nothing at all. 

 

Just as he allowed his tense shoulders to relax, another muffled clang echoed, and he was searching wildly, trying to pinpoint the source. It wasn’t near him, it was… Up there? Sans squinted his sockets, searching the jagged shapes in the shadows as they stabbed the bright night sky. Small metal beams hanging loosely on rusted bolts and worn brick. From those shadows, two feet kicked out over the edge, swinging back and forth alternatively. From the shape and size of those legs, it was a human up there, leaning on the rusted metal railing of the fire escape at the very top of the roof. Not only did that not look safe, the sound that hunk of junk made with every hard swing of those legs made him feel a bit nervous for reasons he couldn’t describe. This was a random human, right? He was out here walking around in the shadier parts of the downtown area because he just went over his mistakes of caring about humans. So what the hell was he doing, walking into the alley? It wasn’t like he could catch the dumbass if they fell. Well, he could, actually. He just didn’t want to. He thought so, anyway. 

 

The creaking metal became less piercing when the human moved back a bit, fumbling around next to them. It was too far, and too dark to see.  _ I really should be getting back.  _ Sans thought to himself, glancing over his shoulder quickly, scanning the sidewalk. He was the only one in this alley. No need to be nervous, right? But then, nothing was shadier than a monster in an alley. People might get the wrong idea about him. So perhaps it was time to head off. With a silent nod to himself, he took a step back, casting one last brief glance to the roof. 

 

Small shapes danced in the neon glow of the night, small and bright, glimmering as they hovered slowly, briefly, before being blown away quickly by a passing wind. They popped, sending tiny wet droplets onto his skull seconds afterward. He touched bony fingers to the spot on his skull where they fell, and sniffed. It smelled like… strawberries??? He looked up again, squinting a little harder this time at the shapes. Realization dawned on him a few moments afterward, little pieces finally clicking into place in his head. 

 

Bubbles. Those were bubbles. 

Strawberry fucking scented bubbles. Homemade, at that.

And this was the downtown area where you lived. The streets he had traversed with you on that tumultus, rainy day a week and a half ago. How could he forget? More importantly, how the hell did he walk clear across the goddamn suburbs into the city in a daze without realizing it? Did he teleport at some point? Use a shortcut he wasn’t aware of? No, that couldn’t be it. It wasn’t-

 

_ Clack _

 

Something small and green fell in front of him, bouncing twice before landing in some iridescent puddle of god knows what on the ground. A soft curse bounced off the walls, as that face, shrouded in darkness, peered over the edge. You seemed to notice him, because you tilted your head in an unspoken question, a full minute passing before hesitantly raised your hand in a wave. Sans raised his own, awkwardly returning it. You were shouting something, but he couldn’t quite understand. You look over your shoulder, checking the area around you before shouting again. 

 

“-the wand!” you pointed.

 

Sans didn’t want to yell back, so he blinked stupidly, looking down at the green thing you pointed at, picking it up, and motioning to it. 

 

“Yeah!” you shouted again. “Can you bring it up here?”

 

~~** _\-----------------------------------------------------------------------_ ** ~~

 

“So, tell me what you’re doing up on the roof, again?” sans asked, standing directly behind you. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep.” you say with a shrug. “Happens more often than not. So I like sitting up here on the roof, since no one else ever comes up here.” 

You dip the wand into the small plastic tupperware container next to you, before blowing on it. Several bubbles dance around, flying over the edge, riding on the breeze. Lights danced like tiny captured stars on their surface, reflecting a whole world of color contained in a tiny orb. You blew a few more, watching them float around your head for a bit before leaning back again, watching them drift down to the alley below. Sans’ eyes stayed on you, your hair messy and uncovered by a hood, too-large sweater swallowing your torso, bare legs kicking out from underneath, worn sandals off to the right, makeshift bubble container to the left. A sea of lights spread out before you, lighting up the small bubbles around you, glinting like fairy lights, like fragile dreams before popping out of existence altogether. The scent of dirty streets and exhaust fumes and strawberries filled his senses. Something about this felt personal. Sacred, even. He couldn’t help but feel like an intruder on this moment. He could leave, but that would make it even more awkward. Sans settled for simply shuffling in place, turning his head to look out over the main city street below. 

 

“You know, sometimes I come up here when I feel like dying.” 

 

Something cold hit his chest, memories of a noose and a smiling face; an engineer who didn’t deserve that fate. Another sin he didn’t want on his conscience. He swallowed thickly, staring at his shoes, opening his mouth. No words came out. You continued on quietly, turning your face to the sky.

 

“Sometimes, I think I can escape the things that scare me if I just ignore them. If I just continue living like there’s nothing wrong, and hope it works itself out in the end. Like it would all just, disappear. A bad dream, or just a bad thought. Like these bubbles. Poof. Just like that.”

 

Why wasn’t his voice working? Even if it was, would there be anything at all to say? Should he say anything? Did it matter? His soul was pulsing with electric shocks of energy. Humming through his bones, something sticking itself in his chest incessantly. It did matter. God, did it matter. But why?

 

“Sometimes I think I can avoid it all. But I know better. I should, anyway. But I run from it anyway. And when it doesn’t solve itself in some way, or it doesn’t get better with time, I feel tired. Because I don’t want to try and fix it. I just want it all to stay the same so I don’t have to try anymore. So I can sleep more. Rest more… forget more.” you add softly at the end. You dragged your knees up from the edge and hugged them to your body, the nape of your neck fully visible, goosebumps forming along the surface. You were cold out here.There was a gentle shivering coming from your hand as you set aside the wand, placing it back into the container. “I don’t like to remember the bad stuff. It makes me feel gross. Awful about myself, really. Awful about everything. I think about how nice it would be to just stop trying so hard. To close my eyes and watch it all fade away. But death is permanent. I’d have to make a list of things I want to do before I go. And then do them. That’s too much work. It’s all too much work. All of it.” 

 

Sans gritted his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot before finally deciding to walk over and plop himself down roughly beside you, face pinched with intense and silent worry. You didn’t look to him. You kept your face the sky, breathing evenly. How was it that the world below was so full of life, so loud and bright and humming with a pulse, but up here the world felt so still? No sounds reached his skull. Everything muffled by a thick blanket, unseen and all consuming. You were there beside him, yet you were a million miles away. That wasn’t uncommon for such selfish creatures like you. Humans were disgustingly selfish, weren’t they? This moment should be no different. All humans wanted death or vengeance when the world didn’t go their way. All humans wanted control. Why would you be any different. Why should he bother caring at all, really. Why should he bother saying anything at all? Why listen to you now, instead of call you out on your shit and walk away? Why bother? Why?

 

“... So I come up here, when I feel like it isn’t worth it anymore.” your voice is a whisper beside him, words hovering, hanging in the air between the two of you. “I sit on this edge, and think about every single bad thing I have ever done. And every single bad thing that was done to me. And I blow these bubbles. I count the number, and match the number of bad memories. Then I watch them pop. One by one. I keep thinking of more and more. Until I’m all out of bad memories. My brain too spent on the negative to think about anything else while I watch all of the bubbles burst.” you lean forward, stretching your legs back out with a shiver, eyes still locked above. “When they’re all gone, I feel empty. So I look at the sky. And I count whatever stars I can find. I name one thing I like about the earth. About living. For every one I find. And you know what I figure out really fast each time I do this?”

 

You finally turn your head to him, and those eyes are glistening, your smile too sad, too fragile. He feels the heavy weight in his chest burn when the corners of your eyes crinkle a little, the smile getting a little wider as a few tears leak out when you blink. 

 

“I find out, that I have entirely too much soap. And there are entirely too few stars up there.” 

 

You’re laughing to yourself, eyes glistening, nose and cheeks red with the cold, bare feet and legs dangling off the edge of this tall building. Locked in your own world, your own weird ritual on a roof, in the middle of the night, out of your mind with stress. Homemade strawberry bubbles and messy hair, freezing your ass off. You’re talking about yourself for once, letting him see something more than just your jokes, your antics, your tantrums. Letting loose the edges of the fabric of your facade, letting him peek in at the layers beneath. 

 

And you were incredible.

 

Absolutely incredible. 

 

There was a pulse in his soul, powerful, painful, hungry for something more. He tried to stop himself, told himself it was Tenacity, spreading out, affecting him, taking hold of his soul like it had his brother’s, choking the air from his reason and making him feel this way. Told himself that reaching out and touching you wasn’t something he was doing consciously. Wasn’t meaningful at all. He told himself again and again, tumbling over too quickly to create any meaning, that pulling you close against him and burying his face in those tangled tresses meant nothing. Nothing at all.    
Stars his chest was on fire, and you smelled so good. Clean laundry and strawberries and crisp night air. His name came from your mouth, muffled against his jacket, arms coming up to return the spontaneous hug. He was burying his face in the crook of that soft neck, the chilled skin smooth against his skull. Sans was indulging in his senses, allowing himself to fall further from that reason that kept him under lock and key. 

 

_ ‘If it’s Tenacity, then it’s okay, right? It’s okay to blame it, to sit like this for a bit, right? Would I be wrong to try-?’ _

He could feel himself mumbling something against you. A fog taking over in his head again, the exhaustion in his bones taking away all sense and logic from his words. Was that a coherent sentence? He wasn't sure. But you felt nice. Inviting, even. It was so goddamn cold out here. And he was so tired. So, so tired. Was he still talking? His chest was vibrating as words left his mouth. He couldn't figure out what he was saying. What you were saying. He focused as hard as he could, zeroing in on your voice. 

 

“Sans, you okay? Are you cold? You’re um, you’re shivering pretty hard.” you gently pull back from him, concerned crinkling in those flushed features. “C’mon. I’ll grab my crap, and we can head down into my apartment. I’ve got a space heater in there we can use.”

 

Had his body always been this heavy? Was he really that tired? Why were his hands shaking so badly? No, no don’t let go yet.

 

“Come on, bonehead,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours, pulling him up. “Undyne even lent me an old tv she never uses, along with her netflix account. You look like you're ready to pass the fuck out, so you can have my couch to crash on tonight. But I ain’t carryin’ you. So move your ass.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are in the Saturday-Sunday area. Because I'm a wreck at getting over a writer's block!!! AUUUGH!!!
> 
> How'd you guys like the chapter?   
> Questions?   
> Comments?  
> Sacrifices? 
> 
> Please be sure to contact me by screaming at a bubble wand today!


	8. Pendulum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even at it's most calm, life can present some trying times, rearing trouble like a multi-headed beast in the night."
> 
> You and Sans have a sleepover.

There was music playing on the television, an hour ticking by without notice the longer you laied in the warm silence of your bedroom. The neon lights outside dancing with the occasional flash of white blurring past as cars sped through the night. You were wrapped loosely in the blankets, the soft fabric warming your cold feet where it twisted around your ankles. Shivers no longer rattled your stiff bones as you ducked your head beneath the covers with a sigh. The darkness felt comforting. A fabric womb about your body that felt like a blind hug to your senses. Comforting, but still failing to lull you into slumber.

 

Thoughts, images, memories, all buzzing about in your head in an indignance that left you distressed. Where were those headphones of yours, again? You could always just listen to music to drown it all out. Save yourself the extra three hours of trying to drown out the voices in vain until you gave up completely and let them talk. These thoughts weren’t bad ones, not raving or chomping at the center of your skull like a hellish beast lying in wait. No, they were panicked whispers and questions. Things you would rather not think about. Embarrassment, doubt, apprehension. Gods above, couldn’t you just quit with this over thinking crap already?

 

You sat up with a sigh, the chill of the air in the cold bedroom registering on your sensitive skin immediately. Bits of neon blue still shone along the ceiling and wall, purple flashing briefly, the corner store down below still open for business. A tired hand rubbed at dry and stinging eyes. Sleep never came easy on nights like this. Nor any other night for that matter. You swung your legs out from beneath the covers, bare feet bumping against a discarded shirt on the worn carpet. Might have to make it a point to clean up around here, since there are more visitors coming around, these days.

 

When you opened the door, the muffled sounds of the television in the livingroom met your ears, mind still too foggy from exhaustion to register what it was Sans had settled on when you left him on the couch an hour and a half prior. Checking in on him had been an idea, but there was something that needed to be done first. Shuffling down the hallway, your eyes glued to the cold floorboards, your mind replayed the events of the day at top speed. Ten seconds exploding into existence with too much crammed into the tiny ticking moments.

 

The warmth of the early morning sun, Undyne’s loud voice rousing you from deep slumber.

The taste of cold orange juice and the best eggs you ever had.

Gaster’s aggravated face.

The feeling of Sans pressed firmly into your side, your eyelids drooping the warmer you felt.

The feeling of his fingers threading through your hair, face turned to gently nuzzle the crown of it.

The quiet of the living room when you woke, disoriented.

City lights buzzing around you, a lopsided smirk meeting your feeble attempts at keeping pace.

The warm touch of a kiss on your palm, the strangled whisper of a name.

The feeling of heat. In your chest, on your face, in your fingertips.

Fangs grazing your lips, violet irises gleaming hungrily.

Smooth and strong hands, with fingers thumbing at the gentle skin of your stomach.

Monster. You were kissing a monster.

Teeth that could rip you apart, tear you asunder.

Teeth, teeth, teeth.

So fucking sharp and warm and wet and pretty-

 

Something hard smacks into your forehead, and you let out a graceful squawk. The bathroom door was still closed. Normally it was left slightly ajar, since there was only ever one resident in this hovel hole. Guess a new habit started forming when company started becoming more constant. A brief glance towards the blue light just over the couch told you that you had not disturbed your newest surprise guest, no signs of movement or sounds of stirring. The dead lump still hanging one arm limply off the armrest of the old furniture. You exhale slowly, shaking your head. This was really no time to be getting stuck in your head about all of this. Sleep. You needed sleep. Tomorrow was another clinic day, and an early one at that. What were you going into the bathroom for again? ...Oh. Right. Pills. Pills then sleep again. Good. Remember that.

 

The bathroom light clicked on with a snap and a buzz, the tiny room illuminated in a sickly yellow that assaulted your weary eyes. Shit, these tiles were so fucking cold. The image reflected in the mirror was one you had seen too many times during the late hours of many sleepless nights. Haggard expression, distant gaze, bruise-burned bags under the eyes from too little sleep over the years, frizzy hair like a nest sitting atop your head. If Sans woke up and saw you like this, you might scare the poor fella into premature dust. Does not good to go around looking such a fright.  
One hand picked up a brush and began tugging through the knots, while you used the other free hand to open the cabinet and rummage through its contents. The small white bottle lay on its side, rolling with a clatter to the white tile at your feet. Something in your head trying tying the imagery to the futile nature of sleep and determination. But it was too late an hour, and you were too tired to elaborate or think on it further. Instead, you retrieved it, and swallowed the small tan pill, sipping water from the tap to help it down, and clicking off the light on your way out.

 

You don’t spare a second glance over to the livingroom, padding softly back towards your bedroom, pushing the door closed behind you with one bare foot. The darkness was all at once welcoming and stifling. It was the place you slept, yet for some reason it always felt like a prison at the same time. The confines of your bed like a well furnished cell or birdcage you lay in when the world became particularly overwhelming. Laying there always felt like a death sentence to any progress you made while you were awake. Lessons forgotten or days ignored as you slept, pretending the problems that plagued your life were non-existent. Pessimism wasn’t a word you used to describe yourself. Sometimes you preferred realistic. But then, both of them had nearly the same type of energy behind them, so what difference did it make? With a sigh, you walk over to the dirty window, neon blue stinging your eyes as you squinted, blinking past the momentary blindness. Wind stirred the few trees outside, a distant rumbling signaling another spring storm on the way. There were no people on the streets, now. Just empty sidewalks and roads, bits of trash tumbling every which way, stuck in gutters and railings. Police sirens went off in a distant part of the town again. Almost like clockwork. It wasn’t a terrible town, not really. Not compared to the many others you had visited when you drifted from place to place a couple years back.

This town was a busy one, packed full of minimum wage earners and shop owners. All scraping by the best they could on what they earned. You joined in that rhythm after a while searching for a place to live. It was a simple living, an existence that equaled the energy of a weary sigh in a place located 60 miles out from Mt. Ebott. The fabled underground living of the monsters you now lived and worked by and befriended. Odd, how quickly life changes when you aren’t paying much attention to it. Come to think of it, not much news got around in this tiny place, located so near to the ocean. News spread slowly amongst the residents, the main part of the city like a disjointed limb on a broken body, where not very many people went or paid much attention to. Some called this place the slums. Charming, but inaccurate. It was a little dingy, sure. But it wasn’t all bad. It was home, to say the least. A new home, a new place, a new identity and job and lifestyle. It was… something, and yet…

 

It’s not the same, you think, hand on the sill, cars now barely dotting the distant surface of the dark roads. It’s something more than it was before, certainly. But… not enough. The nightmares were still there. The scars in your mind ever present. When would this go away, you wondered? A plane rumbled by overhead, a dog barking somewhere in the complex.There was a fly on the window, the neon blue lighting up its torso, a tiny faux firefly in the confines of your tiny room. There was a sigh on your lips, and a regret in your heart. Nothing would ever be rid of the things you chose never to speak of. Nothing could rid you of your demons, of this you were certain. And really, you had given up running from them long ago. Opting instead to simply turn and accept them; absorb them, as it were. Look yourself squarely in the soul and admit that you were something less than pleasant. That the acts you committed in the name of survival and easier living quality were heinous, and even downright scandalous. Part of you wondered what Gaster even saw in you, to make him kiss you like you were the very air he needed to breathe. What did he even see in you?

 

Poor behavior and coping capabilities. Hair trigger temper with a quick-silver tongue. The more you opened up your mouth, the less vibrant the world around you seemed as you sucked it free of its life. What did it mean, to be without this sickness, you wondered? You had accepted your demons, and done nothing to be rid of them. They were a part of you now. A deeper understanding of the human condition is what they offered. The understanding that good does not exist, evil is a state of nature and being, and ethical was only ever a suggestion to the human race.

 

You press your forehead to the cold glass and inhaled deeply. Enough of this negative thinking. Enough of this pessimistic internal monologue. It wouldn’t help anything now.. What’s in the past cannot be changed. Cannot be fixed. It’s time to put this crap behind you and move forward. It’s time to start walking without fear of the tide taking you over again. Even if Undyne and Alphys and everyone else found out about all the horrible things you did, what difference would it make? They’d either leave you for dead, or stick around in an attempt to keep the faith in the person they had perceived you to be. Not terribly awful outcomes either way. Unless-

You smack both hands on either side of your face, aggravated. Goddamnit, if your head wasn’t going to listen to you about not overthinking this downer bull crap, then it was off to bed with you! Put your mopey ass into bed and sleep it out. .The pills would kick in eventually. Until then, some music would be pretty nice.

Now, where were those headphones?

* * *

 

Noises. Soft and deliberate, coming from the hallways as he shifted his tired eyelids open with a groan. The room as dark, the sound of the space heater humming at the foot of the couch, sitting atop the end table, pointed in his direction. His bones were warm, the softness of the heavy blankets lulling him into a sense of security. There as a scientist speaking of the cosmos on the television, the deep baritone of his voice soothing to his weary, sleep addled mind. Where was he again? … Ah that’s right, he was at your house.After finding you on the roof and-

 

There was a clattering sound coming from the direction of the hall, startling him briefly. He shifted, sitting up to look over the back of the couch. The bathroom light was on, the door still open, yellow light spilling out and bathing the halls in a warm glow. You must have woken up at some point. The tap water was running, the creek of the cabinet as it was pushed shut a little too loud for his liking. Sans felt curious, wanting to be a little nosey, but his own body protested the idea, another yawn finding its way out of him before he flopped back down, pulling hte covers over his shoulders. Whatever you were doing, it wasn’t important, surely. So he settled back down, shutting his eyes, and trying to cling to the retreating fingers of sleep still coaxing the edges of his consciousness. More noises, the sound of a floorboard creaking, the door to your room shutting with a click.

Flickering light played over his closed lids, gentle humming and heat and the faint smell of your detergent enveloping his senses. Somewhere outside, a siren went off. Tyical night life for this side of town, it seemed. He didn’t bother dwelling on it long, opting instead to let his mind wander in a sleepy haze. Stars above he was so comfortable. How could a home even be this cozy? Dingy, sure, but still cozy nonetheless.

‘Wonder what the results for their soul value will be?’ he wondered. ‘Whatever it is, it seemed to have some manipulative effect on the souls of others, judging by what Alph found. Is that even useful in a work environment? Where would we even put someone like that? Maybe social work or something. Nah, manipulation isn’t a real trait, per say.’ He yawned again. ‘Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll be put somewhere in the clinic until they can be placed, so we can keep an eye on the. Minimize contact with others until we can figure out how their soul-’

 

Your bedroom door opened with a soft creak. Sans opened his eyes, blinking. Not that he was unable to sleep when someone else was awake and wandering about, but he would much rather sleep knowing he had no one left to keep tabs on. And you were a ball of trouble waiting to happen on a good day. Especially since they couldn’t figure out what triggered a lot of your negative reactions in the past week alone. Crashing on your couch was one part convenience, another part babysitting.  
He could hear the floorboards sound underneath your feet as you moved about the apartment behind him. Opening drawers and shifting items around in the dark. After a couple of minutes, a sigh left you in an aggravated huff, before you slowly crept around the front of the couch. Your eyes met his in the dark, his own bright eye lights glancing up lazily at your surprised ones as you stopped in front of him, shifting your weight awkwardly before standing up straight.

 

“Ah, shit. Sorry.” you whispered. “I thought you were still asleep. I didn’t wake you up or anything, did I?”

 

Sans shifted back into a sitting position, rubbing at his sockets. “Mmm. it was something dropping in the bathroom.” he waved a hand at your guilty expression. “I’m a light sleeper. No big deal. I’d wake up at a fart in a dark room across the house, i swear.”

 

That got chuckle out of you. “That’s hilarious. Good to know my butt-burps will be heard by a supersonic hearing skeleton somewhere in the vicinity.”

 

“Heh. yeah. But, if you don’t mind me askin’, what the heck are you looking for? You seem pretty damn determined to find it.”

 

“Oh, uh. I was trying to find my headphones. Can’t sleep, so I thought music would help. The speaker on my phone is shit from getting water-logged one too many times. So headphones are normally the go-to method. But I can’t seem to figure out where I put them.”

 

“Right. Well,” he stood up, popping his back. “Might as well help you.”

 

You scrunched your nose, waving your hand. “What? No! You go back to bed. I’m literally just going to snag them and do the same myself. No use keeping us _both_ awake for something as idiotic as headphones.”

 

He wasn’t listening, already pulling up the blankets from the cushions and searching the cracks, just in case. The hot air from the heater was close to his right femur, and it felt really fucking nice. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted. He also knew he wouldn’t get much sleep if you continued meandering about, and would only relax once you were in bed. Either way, he wasn’t sleeping. Might as well do something productive and help you find the thing you needed, right?

 

“S’no sweat, kid. Four sockets are better than two. And if we’re both up, i might as well do something about it.” Sans made his way over to the kitchen, flicking on the light and grunting as he was momentarily blinded. “Where’s the last place you remember having them?”

 

There was a mumble from across the room, where you knelt on the floor, shining your phone light under the couch. Asking again seemed pointless, so he just opened up drawers and cabinets, picking up a discarded towel on the kitchen tile and plopping it onto the counter before shutting the light off again. Headphone hunt in the late hours of the night, huh? Not the most compelling sleepover he’s ever had. He stifled a laugh as you tripped over one of his shoes, almost colliding with a bookshelf on the wall. It was all well and good to keep the atmosphere calm if they happened to find them early, but groping around in the dark wasn’t helping anyone right now. The only problem here, was that he had no freaking clue where the light switch for the livingroom was.

 

“Where in the hell did I leave them? They couldn’t have just disappeared.” you had a hand to your mouth, pressing the knuckles to your lips and tapped your foot in thought. “Last place I had them… last place I had them…” There was a brief pause as you considered, your eyes moving up the ceiling, teeth gnawing away at your skin. “SHIT.” You said suddenly; harshly. “I left them at Undyne’s place. God fucking _damn it_.”

 

Sans shrugged, making his way back to the couch, his lazy nature getting the best of him, now that this problem was settled. “Welp. guess you’ll just have to snag it from her tomorrow. Just shoot her a text in the morning, and ask her if you can stop by.”

 

“Uuugh. Figures I’d just wind up leaving my crap there. I felt like I was forgetting something. I _knew_ I was. How come that crap never hits you until, like, long after the fact?”

 

“Dunno, kid. Aren’t you always tied to those things, anyway? Don’t think i’ve ever seen you without them.” this was true, to a degree. In all his time knowing you, never once had he seen you without a pair of headphones around your neck. Anxiety, you had told him once during a lunch break at the clinic. Too many people or too much sound made you nervous and unable to function. Drowning everything out with music helped you to relax. “Kind of weird that you’d forget something like that.”

 

“Damn.” was all you said.

 

Sudden, creeping suspicion filled his bones. Last he checked, the only other people awake to take you home had been Undyne and Gaster. Alph was knocked out cold, same time Paps fell asleep. Undyne would never leave Alphys alone in the apartment like that. Which meant-

 

“Hey. lemme probe your noggin here for a bit.” he shoved his hands into his pockets, turning around and leaning on the back of the couch. “Forgetting stuff is normal in day to day life. But forgetting things you normaly keep with you 24/7 can be out of the ordinary. So whatever distracted you must have been somethin’ pretty big for you to leave behind the one thing you’re never without.”

 

It was clear you sensed the accusation in his tone, your brows shooting upward as you turned to face him. “I… wh-what?”

 

“Gaster walked you home, didn’t he?”

 

That face seemed to tint with pink. “H-how did you-? I mean, I… Ooooh geez.” you cupped a hand to your face, a wistful smile on full display as a memory replayed behind your dazed look. “Y-yeah. He, um. He walked me back.”

Sans’ grin widened. Tight and unfriendly, tinged with anger. _That son of a bitch._ “Really? Did anything _happen_ during that time? You know, did he hug you or touch your hand or anything like that? Any physical contact?”

 

The smile faltered marginally. “Uh, well yeah. We hugged. And he held my hand so I wouldn’t get lost in the crowd on the way back.”

 

“I see.”

 

You furrowed your brow. “I don’t see the issue with that, though. I don’t think your brother was the reason for me-”

 

Sans walked over to you, voice even. “I’m not asking because I think he was the reason you forgot your stupid headphones. I’m asking because Gaster was given strict and explicit orders _not_ to have any physical contact with you.”

 

“What, is this a work related thing? Nothing happened between us! I don’t see why-”

 

He interrupted you again. “No, of course you don’t see. Because no one even told you. But maybe it’s time I do, so you can understand the gravity of the situation.”

 

The tension in the room picked up quickly, the once comfortable atmosphere now mixing with a colder undertone that seemed to make you twitch your hands nervously. Sans knew he was being unfair. Knew that perhaps approaching this in a more light-hearted manner might have sat better with you, but not have gone over so well in the long run. Right now, he needed to instill in you the understanding of what your soul could do, and how serious its effects could be, since they didn’t know the intent of what it cold do just yet. Like ripping off a band-aid. Just make it quick, and make it sting. Don’t let them slip up.

 

“Your soul? Whatever its ability is, it affects the souls of those around it. Like an amplification device, really. Heightening the primal responses to stress or outside stimuli. Or so we’ve observed from the data done in Alphys’ lab” your hand instinctively touched your chest, rubbing the spot just over your heart. “When Gaster touched you the first time your soul power came out in full force? It latched onto him. _Marked_ him. Which means that his primal responses are neurotic.”

 

“Neurotic? Wait, what does that mean? Why does my soul do that? Are there side-effects or something? Is it bad?”

 

“All you need to know right now is that you need to refrain from having contact with him. Any direct physical contact could send him over the edge, and cause him to do something stupid. So I’m enforcing a strict no contact rule for you as well, until we can properly figure this out.”

 

“Well that’s just stupid.”

Sans’ eye twitched, aggravation on full display, now. “What’s stupid?”

 

You waved an arm vaguely, tone taking on a subtle edge. “Telling me not to touch him when you aren’t sure if it’s a bad thing. Nothing happened when he hugged me! Avoiding him isn’t going to fix anything, either. He seemed just fine when he-”

 

“I assure you, _____. He was not, _just fine_.”

 

“How would _you_ know, einstein? And can you let me finish a fucking sentence before you start interrupting me like an asshole, thank you? I understand you want to get your point across, but interrupting me does nothing for my levels of cooperation with you. Or did you forget that after the first few months I nearly tore you a new one at the clinic?”

 

“Tore me a new one? Did you mean your petty whining and cursing? You couldn’t scare a newborn babybones with that kind of behaviour. You were just being petulant, like you are right now! I don’t care if you think it’s stupid. No contact with my older brother. End of discussion.” he started walking around the couch, picking up the blanket.

 

“End of discussion? No. You don’t get to tell me when I can or cannot argue a point. I’m not listening to your stupid fucking no contact rule. In fact, I’m going right up to him and hugging him, first thing tomorrow morning!”

 

“What the fuck? Why?”

 

“Out of spite for your shitty behaviour!”

 

“ are you serious right now?? I did nothing wrong! you’re the one getting worked up here! you’re acting childish!”

 

“I am not acting childish!”

 

“well you certainly aren’t being an adult about it! and i don’t know what else to call this!”

 

You were flailing your hands in a fury, making a noise in the back of your throat. “I’m just saying that this whole no contact rule when you don’t even know for sure if contact is what causes-”

 

“you don’t have to understand anything. just stop touching him, and we’ll both be on good terms for the remainder of the time we have to work together.”

 

“Let me FUCKING FINISH!”

 

Now it was Sans’ turn to be petulant. “why? so you can say more useless irrelevant garbage? so you can pretend to know what you’re talking about? leave the actual science to the professionals, buddy. you go back to your teddybears and daydreaming and music induced brain comas while we go about actually getting shit done with our lives.” Okay, low blow. And he knew it. But hell, you were starting to get on his nerves. So much so, that he grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and shrugged it on, ready to leave. “i don’t know why i bother trying to be nice to you about shit like this when all you do is try to find a way out of any semblance of responsibility.”

 

Your jaw dropped, mouth agape at his words, eyes flashing a brief maroon before walking right up to him. “I don’t know what the fuck has your ass in such a tight knot of bitchiness, but I am not your personal verbal punching bag and I am certainly not some stranger from the street that you can talk to that way! Just because I’m not a dumb scientist flaunting a lab coat doesn’t mean I’m stupid! What I like and what my hobbies are don’t determine my level of intelligence!”

 

He scoffed, pressing his feet into his shoes with a roll of his eyes. This wasn’t meant to go this way. Sans had hoped that you would agree without much of a fuss about it. Clearly he was wrong, and the execution could certainly have gone a little better. There was a cold chill in his chest the longer you sat there, glaring at his back while he fixed his laces. There were lights flashing by as a car sped down the street. Blue neon sign down below finally clicking off for the night. It was silent, save for the sounds of the space heater, and the low tones of the television. The wind picked up, howling loud enough to be heard inside. Stars, something burned in his soul. Leaving now would only make this situation worse. Yet a part of him didn’t want to care. Wanted to leave and let you feel like crap for even challenging him on this. He was angry. Aggravated. Tired. This could easily be fixed by a quick sit-down and a breather. He could fix this now, if he tried.

 

“So much for establishing a friendship. I thought I actually meant something to you.” came your quiet, angry voice. “But it’s clear you only see me as an idiot nuisance in your life.”

 

He leaned moved to pick up his phone from the end table, mouth opened, words tumbling out before he could stop himself, “well you don't mean anything to me so get that thought out of your pathetic little head.”

* * *

 

 In a blur, you knocked the phone from his hand and toppled the end table onto its side with a feral screech of rage. Your hands were on the collar of that idiotic coat of his, yanking him down to your level and all but snarling in his face

 

"Tough talk coming from an asshole like you who was ready and willing to save my ass and even downright fucking FLIRT with me openly in public! If I don't mean shit, then stop trying to cozy up to me, leading me on with your sadistic and narcissistic bullshit act of being a friend to me, you fucking freak!"

 

He didn't take kindly to that, blue eyes flashing dangerously as he stepped forward, your hands still on him. Those fangs you glimpsed only once before, were fully visible now, as he let out a low growl of his own. Bluish black gums peeked out from underneath the cover of bone, those dangerous looking teeth close enough to your face that the next words he spoke sent a cruel breath directly into your mouth and nose.

"and that's a lot of talk coming from somebody who is always willing to throw themselves into the arms of the first fucking person who cares enough to protect your sorry ass. Even then it's probably just your parasitic soul power tainting them into reacting that way . you can't even get people to like you naturally. you have to corrupt them into thinking they do, and then take advantage of that! so who's the _REAL_ freak here, human?"

 

There was the icy pinpricks of your anxiety again, clawing its way up the back of your neck and running over your scalp, all the fine hairs on your neck standing on end. But behind that anxiousness was unholy hatred. Pain and absolute HURT that struck you at those words, making the breath from your lung leave you so sharply, the world spun. You could have cried, let go and screamed at him, and run off, hid somewhere quiet and cried. Or keep running until you couldn't anymore. Something about those words make you feel ill. Sick inside with denial and desperate wanting- a desire to be anyone and anything but yourself. To never have to be you again. To escape. Instead, your hands were around his throat, squeezing hard, nails digging into the strangely warm bone, vision twisting and warping as you screamed in his startled face.

 

"I never tainted their souls! I never willingly went out of my way to make anyone like me! Least of all some old, sick fuck like you! Playing with people's lives like some kind of sorting hat game, never once thinking about where that puts us! Where that puts ME!! I never asked for any of this to happen!!"  He had his hands on your forearms now, ripping your grasp free, shoving you up against the wall as you struggled. He was ready to say something, a scowl on his features, but you never relented. "I never asked to be ripped from the only stable god damn job I've had in years! I never asked to be stuck with a shit excuse for a scientist and his even shittier asshole sidekick so they can push me around!"

 

"Oh, poor you!"  he drawled, grip painful, gaze withering. "no one asked the poor human what they wanted! please excuse the rest of us while we revolve around your demands and needs! Is everything really about you? do you ever stop to think that maybe your whiny and disgusting self is not, in fact, the center of the goddamn universe?"  You were firmly pressed to the wall, attempting to kick out at him in your rage. He pulled you forward and slammed you against the wall a second time, knocking what little air you had left in your lungs.

"Poor you! no one asked you to fall in line with the rest of us and make do with the new and shitty government we now all live under!" he slammed you back again. "Poor you! no one thought of your needs while monsters and humans everywhere suffered and starved that first year we attempted coexistence while your race literally sat on their asses sipping tea, deciding OUR fate like weeds waiting to be pulled in an industrial garden!" and again.

" _POOR. FUCKING. YOU!_ how _DARE_ nobody ask you what you want or need or desire when the whole fucking world outside of your petty wonders literally goes to SHIT! Nobody _asked_ you? _NOBODY ASKED YOU_ ? well congratu-fucking-lations, darling! _No one asked ANY of us_ ! you aren't the only sad sack piece of horse shit that's had to deal with the grievances of the new world! You think you're the only one suffering here when I have to constantly put up with pressure from some sadistic department touting world peace and deal with your petty bullshit at the same time? Get over yourself, sweetheart. _Everyone_ is suffering here. _Not just YOU_!"

 

You struggle against his grasp again, kicking feebly. "You mock me like I'm the only selfish one here! But last I recall, you were trying to convince me to be your stupid guinea pig so you could get in good with the higher ups! Last I checked I was your disposable cash cow in a project that literally made MY _LIFE_ a fucking _GAME_ !!" Stars, your throat hurt so much from all this screaming. But you couldn't bring yourself to stop, still struggling in vain against his hold. "I deserve to feel betrayed! To feel upset! To be _ANGRY_ , god damnit! My whole life is gone if I can't be placed! If I can't be sorted like a sheep in a herd, ready for the fucking _SLAUGHTER_ ! I don't have a life outside of this, I don't have a future outside of this!" You turn to fully face him, now, but his face was too blurry to see. Your eyes stung so much. "All your shitty project has told me is that my soul is _UNUSABLE_ ! That I have no talents, or pros or potential! Nothing! I have nothing! I didn't ask to be your shitty project! I didn't ask to be stuck in this place, with this-! This-! This fucking _GARBAGE_ soul! I didn't ask for any of this!" Your chest was heaving, your head falling forward as you choked back a sob. "I didn't ask to be this way. To be stuck without any promise of ever succeeding in life, of ever truly finding a place to be! I didn't ask.." you sobbed wretchedly, letting him hold you still to the wall, wrists aching with the bruises blossoming there. "...I didn't ask to be born like this."

 

A strangled sound came from him, his grip loosening on your wrists. It was silent. Too silent. Your ears stuffed with cotton, your mind distant, feeling too far from your body. Where were your legs? Were you breathing? You couldn't tell. Something constricted painfully in your chest, the acid in your stomach threatening to come up. It was so cold, so very, very cold. Had your body always been this heavy? No, not it wasn't. Where was the floor? There was only grey and black in your blurry vision. Everything meshing and morphing together. Bits of white scattered about along the edges.

 

There was a mouth on yours. Something sharp grazing your lower lip. The pressure on your wrists subsided, arms circling your waist and pulling you back from the wall into a tight hug. A stark contrast to the earlier rage filled pinning that you faced prior. Sans was saying something in your ear, the sound muffled and desperate and still angry. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog there, trying to make sense of the shapes and shadows dancing around the edges of your consciousness. Fabric was pressed up against your face; the scent of ketchup and rain and faint traces of detergent. Familiar. It was familiar. When you didn't respond to the words tumbling from his mouth over your shoulder, he pulled back.

 "god, shit. fuck. i'm... i'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I just-" you weren't responding, your chest heaving. You felt bile rising in your throat. Shapes. Everything was just colors and shapes.

Glowing blue. Filling your vision. Hands firmly holding your face, your name said in a deep voice, a low rumbling tone there that commanded. That dragged your mind back just a bit. Eyes. Bright. Intelligent. Familiar eyes. Sans. It was Sans. The doleful looking half-wit that you nearly choked to death. The asshole who just tore your ego to shreds before you. The dumb fuck who looked about ready shake you if you stared at him any longer in that daze of yours. Fire still burned in your gut, your chest still aching with the verbal assault on your already too-tender soul. Your insecurities blared with unholy clarity in your mind as you swiped a sleeve at your tear and snot covered face. With a snort, you tried to clear your clogged up nostrils, earning a micro-grimace from Sans in response. Beautiful. Fuck you too, you shitty skeleton asshole. 

"shit. don't scare me like that. I thought you were going to pass out." scare  _him?_ "i lost my temper. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you like that. i shouldn't have pushed you to... fuck. i'm so sorry."

A sigh escaped you, your forehead going to bump against his. The familiar gesture you had come to know him by. Fuck this asshole. You were still pissed off. But the pain in your chest was more prevalent. Right now, ripping him a new one for being a bag of dicks wasn't going to solve anything. You'd rather diffuse the situation before you actually barfed and passed out. So you clear your mucus filled throat and sniff. "You're a fucking asshole. I can't believe I let you sleep on my couch."

 

He blinked, clearly surprised at your willingness to not smack him across the skull. It would serve him right, to be sure. But then, you kind of deserved a good slap at the back of the head yourself. Whatever. "i can't believe it either." came his resigned reply.

 

The episode ended, the room being engulfed in darkness as the show as a whole ended. The light from the streetlamp light up his right side, the glow from his eyes giving a small bit of luminescence between you. He was searching your face, uncertain and clearly guilty. Your wrists were throbbing, your chest aching dully with repressed pain. There was a faint bluish glow coming from his throat, where you had firmly wrapped your fingers. Shit, was that their way of bruising? Looks like he wasn't the only one to lose his reasoning in the face of rage... A flashing memory of the day at the diner, the day you deliberately attacked the man who tried to do the same, filled your mind.

All at once, you felt your breath leave you, immediate and all-consuming self hatred searing your gut. You had gone and done the same damn thing that asshole in the diner tried to do! It was a shitty situation if you had to protect him from  _yourself_. This was supposed to be your friend. No amount of disagreements or hurtful words should have had you grabbing him like that. Gods, what were you fucking thinking? You overreacted and made a mountain out of a molehill! _Again_! What the fuck was _WRONG_ with you?!

Sans must have noticed the change in your face, because his own expression softened, bringing a hand down to yours, rubbing tenderly at the wrists. He shook his head silently. You were both at fault, here. Neither of you were very graceful or pretty in the heat of the moment. The two of you were stressed out, going through shit you couldn't begin to figure out or fight back against. Sometimes, this lead people to do stupid shit, like take it out on anyone or anything that was within immediate reach. The rage was coming from an understandable place, but it didn't make it alright. It was coming from a place of hurt and confusion and helpless anger. Nothing could be done about it. But this? This wasn't right. It would never be right. You both knew this, and felt equal parts shame and remorse as the silence stretched from seconds to minutes.

 

You were the first to speak. "I... I'm so sorry. I'm a literal menace. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. I'm always breaking shit and yelling and complaining and wrecking things. I don't.... I can't... fuck I should just be locked away. _Forever_. Until I can calm my shit or something-"

 

"i'm just as much at fault here. i shouldn't have shouted at you like that, or let my anger get the best of me. I know you don’t understand what’s happening, or even why your soul reacts the way it does. I shouldn’t have tried to hurt you just because you didn’t willingly agree. we were both pretty ugly there." he touched his nasal bone to your nose with a sigh. "that wasn't alright. in fact, that was incredibly unhealthy. so from here on? we're going to sit and talk shit out. once a week. no excuses. every Saturday. work, social life, home life, personal shit. doesn't matter. we're talking it out. get all that crap out and in the open, so this kind of pent up rage doesn't get a second chance at exploding on us."

"Like, every Saturday? Or some Saturdays? Where would we even-"

"every Saturday. doesn't matter where. lunch break, morning, night, over the phone, over text. i don't give a shit. but this ain't happening again. not if i can help it."

You grimace. The thought made you uncomfortable. It wasn't that you weren't comfortable addressing your emotions. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was the sharing it openly part that got you. Sharing what you felt or thought out in the open always had you on edge, never knowing whether or not the things that plagued you were worth mentioning or if they were just idiotic flights of fancy in your brain that aggravated everyone else around you. Talking about things that bothered you wasn't easy. Judging by the look on Sans' face, however, you knew there was no room for discussion. So you relented.

 

"Fine. But only for a half hour. And whatever we talk about, stays between us. I can live with you knowing, since I'm not all that concerned with your opinion of me." he made a face. "But if Undyne or Alphys know that I... that I'm... Ugh, look, just. Don't tell anybody about what I tell you, and I'll agree to this. Alright?"

 

"you have my word. so long as you do the same for me. what is said between us, stays between us. monster's promise." he crossed his chest.

 

“Monster’s promise, huh.” you mumbled. “Alright, then. I’ll hold you to it.”

 

“Good. now please. Can we get some fucking sleep before we have to get ready for more work in hell? Because i think i'm about ready to dust at how tired i’m feeling.”

 

“I don’t know if I can sleep now. So I’ll just hang out with you on the couch and watch some Cosmos until I pass out. Provided we don’t break out into anymore angsty tele-novela drama scenes anymore. Deal?”

 

He snorted, pressing a skeleton kiss to your forehead, squeezing your hand one last time before pulling away. “Deal.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: My computer shut off, since the battery is fucked, and I lost 2-3 hours of work. I must have sat there in absolute agony and rage for nearly thirty minutes, trying to keep myself from tossing this damn thing out a window. 
> 
> On a happier note, how is everyone today? Getting your daily dose of angst and orange juice? I hope so! 
> 
> Leave me some feedback, peeps. Or let me know your suggestions! I have a tumblr for any requests and junk. If you need me, I'll be blowing bubbles! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!


	9. Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepover part 2! In which irony ensues.  
> *-tap dances off screen-*

“Here, let me heal that for you,” he said with a mumble, uncertain, “might as well make myself useful here.” 

It had been a while after the fight, the two of you having migrated to the couch after attempting to clean up the mess you made. One of the legs on the table you flipped now had a wobbly leg, so it couldn't quite stand properly. Looks like you weren't the only one hurt by that argument. Poor table. Didn't do anything and it payed for your temper. Normally it was the bathroom door that payed that price but it you guessed it was time to give it a break anyway. Sans had picked up his cell, carefully setting it back on the end table. Damn, did he ever look uncomfortable. But then, you were still feeling weird after all of that as well. Couldn't be helped. You shrug and set down your own phone on the floor beside you.

 

“Oh. Yeah, sure, go for it.” you hold out your wrists, getting comfortable in your spot on the couch. 

 

Those bony fingers reach out, glowing with a dim green hue, gently placing themselves over the angry looking bruises that sat atop the swelled skin. Your eyebrows nearly shot off your forehead in surprise when those bruises began to disappear. In their place, there is a faint discoloration of the skin, circling around the wrists.. Thin, a shade darker than your skin tone, almost like a shadow, yet not too noticeable. You furrow your brow, unsure of what to make of it. Maybe his healing magic wasn’t doctor level? Was there even a doctor level for this kinda stuff? Or did it just take care of the immediate distress? Hm. Wonder if they could heal headaches and stuff like that. NO, no, focus here, _____. Stop wandering off in your own head.

 

Sans brought his face closer. There were beads of sweat on his brow, the lights in his sockets disappearing momentarily. He looked nervous, anxious even, as he thumbed at the dark marks. Judging by his reaction to them, it probably didn't mean anything good. Oooor maybe he was just making sure they weren't bleeding? Cripes, you didn't know what it meant. You just hoped it wasn't anything bad.

 

“Shit…” he breathed.  _Ah, crap._

 

“What? What’s wrong?” You hoped he didn’t do something weird or fuck this up somehow and do permanent damage. You have a thought, and you wiggle your fingers. Good. Still fully functional.

 

“I had really hoped it wouldn't do that.” that tone did not sound good. “Ah, so, you’re not going to like this. Because I know I sure don’t. But…” he looked you in the eyes, pinprick lights now back and more piercing than ever. "I can't heal it. These marks won't go away.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s… You mean you can’t heal them completely right now, right? Like, they'll heal on their own with time?”

“Heh, okay. No, I mean they won’t ever go away. It’s sort of like um.” Damn, bone boy was sweating like mad. He let go of your wrists and began clicking the tips of his finger bones together, snapping them against one another. The sound was irritating. “Monsters don’t normally exhibit… _hostile_ behavior. Our entire species as a whole is not prone to showing high levels of, um, _physical_ aggression. That isn’t to say that this doesn’t happen. just that it isn’t common, and it isn’t ever extreme. You follow?”

You nod your head absently, drawing your feet up onto the cushions. There wasn't any way in hell you were mentally capable enough to listen to or remember any of this information, but you'd try to the best of your ability.

 

“That being said, if in the rare case it does happen, it can leave a lasting mark. Not unlike how human skin can scar from physical trauma. Only these disappear within a week. In some cases, however...” he shifted uncomfortably. “...when the emotions of the monster in question are particularly volatile, the mark left there can become permanent..”

“Wait, why is that? What’s the, you know, evolutionary nonsense to explain it?” that sounded really, really stupid to you. That’s like getting punched in the face and having the imprint of a black eye forever. The amount of money dumped into all the coverup makeup a person would need for that would be astronomical.

 

Sans just shrugged. “It was a way of weeding out the dangers to our kin in the times of our ancestors. Monsters as a whole are made up of love, hope and compassion. We’re weaker than humans by default because of this. We aren’t an evil species. So whenever one of us exhibits this kind of aggressive behavior, it’s seen as a threat to our survival. The mark they make upon another monster acts like a beacon to others to steer clear of them. Meaning soul-bonding and future procreation would be forever cut off from them.”

Wait, wait, wait. _Procreation???_ Is that what soul-bonding was? Did they not do the sex thing? Well, he  _was_ a skeleton. So you supposed that made enough sense. Still, how do you make another monster child with just your souls? Ugh. Man. Who knew you’d be getting a history lesson at.. You look to the clock on the wall. _Shit. 3am?_ Sans continued to speak, not giving the slightest attention to your fidgeting around. 

“Given our state of being, if a monster were _deliberately_ to harm another in a fit of rage, it would cause permanent damage, since we are more in tune with our souls. Sort of like what you humans to do one another emotionally. The permanent marks left by verbal or emotional abuse that leaves a scar on the mind forever. Only ours manifests in a physical way.”

 

“That, uh. Makes sense? I guess?” No, no it really didn’t. And if you were honest, you weren't really absorbing a lot of this anyway. “So if you hurt someone emotionally, it shows up physically, since monsters are more soul and emotion than anything else?”

 

“I mean yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

 

“Soooo…. These won’t ever go away?”

 

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “No.”

 

“Because you hurt my feelings?”

 

He slapped his skull. “No. Because I wounded you emotionally, which translated physically on your body.”

 

“Right, what did I say?” it was clear he wasn’t amused.

 

“I deliberately picked at an insecurity and attacked you with it. And it affected you in a heavy, negative way. Hence,” he pointed at your wrists, “those marks. It is a permanent reminder of what I have done. Of what you experienced. A signal to everyone who sees it that I… did something terrible to you.”

 

His face fell at that last bit, fear and immense regret clear on his face. He looked a mess, and you had nothing to say to him to quell his worries. Lying to him about not being hurt was a no-go. There were marks on your skin that were already calling you out long before the fib came to mind. No weaseling away from your feelings on this one, it seems. So instead, you just rub your eyes with a sigh, and then pat him on his knee.

 

“Nothing much we can do about it now, yeah? I’ll wear wristbands or wrap them up or something. Say I have carpel tunnel if anyone asks, and let it be. Not a permanent solution here, but it’s something for now. People make mistakes. Monsters too. It’s literally in our nature to fuck up.”

 

Sans didn’t look appeased. In fact, he looked even guiltier. “You shouldn’t have to do that, though. That shouldn’t have to be a thing. I’m so sorry.”

 

You stretch out a foot, poking him on his shin with your toes. “I had my hands around your throat, dumbass. I started it. If push comes to shove, I am more than willing to take that blame. Stop being such a hard ass on yourself. This fight was a two way street. Not a one way road. And to be fair, I came down that road in a large semi. You had no chance of escape.”

 

That got a smirk out of him. He shook his head, flopping back on the arm rest near his side of the couch. “Feel like the world is still going to shit around me, despite our newfound freedom. Looks like nothing at all has changed.”

 

There were levels of hidden angst in there you weren’t ready to commit to questioning. The guy looked like he had a heavy chip on his shoulder. So instead, you digress.  “Ditto. Someday we’ll get this living thing right.” you muttered, reaching for the remote. “Let’s ignore our growing problems and watch some fucking cartoons or something, yeah? I’m done with this feelzy crap. It’s wearin me out.”

 

* * *

 

There was darkness. The sensation of bone beneath his palms, constricting and pushing on them with too much force for it to have been comfortable. From that darkness, white, disembodied hands shot out, digging into his wrists. It was searing, painful. The static kiss of electricity running through his body at the touch. Whispers poured into his skull, dripping and churning as if it were a viscous liquid sloshing around between his ears.

 

_Shut up shut up shut up_

_Selfish, this idiotic human is so fucking selfish_

_Why are they whining so much?_

_All of my kind are suffering because of them_

_I hate the surface_

_I hate these humans_

_SHUT UP_

 

Small, seemingly insignificant words in a mind such as his. But the emotion, the volatile _intent_ behind them left the skin at his wrists throbbing, an almost unmerciful shock of pain shooting straight through to his soul. How could it hurt this much? Those words weren’t meant for him. He was not human. Yet there they sat, pushing at the edges of his mind in all their hateful glory. The voice continued to murmur and hiss and bubble in the depths of that darkness. No ceiling or floor or scenery around to tell him where he was or why he was hearing this. How long would it last, he wondered, unable to move his own body. All at once, the murmuring ceased, the pressure on his wrists gone, everything falling out from beneath him, sending him spiraling, falling, fading. _Just like-_

 

Gaster woke with a start. Soul hammering away in his chest, bleary vision immediately scanning the shadows of his dimly lit bedroom in a blind panic. Moonlight shone through the open curtains, gentle white light sitting atop his desk, bits of reflected light shining off off the silver laptop. Bits of those moonbeams touched the end of the bed, illuminating the bunched and twisted sheets that tangled around his long legs. A cool breeze blew in from the small crack in the window, pale curtains rustling gently. The clock on the nightstand beside him read 2:34am. Far too late of an hour to be having nightmares.

With a weary sigh, he pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed a hand over his face. Peculiar dream. It wasn’t often he had them, or remembered them after the fact. But that one… he looked down, hand floating about an inch away from the connecting bone. No wrists. Yet the dull throbbing there was as real as if he had them.

 

 _What could this mean?_ He thought to himself.

 

A plane rumbled overhead in the distant, in answer. The steady rhythm of the night outside his window uninterrupted and familiar. A gentle lulling of the nerves in the heart of this busy city that Gaster had come to grow fond of over the years. There would be more time for speculation on this at a later time. He would simply make note of it now, and look into it when next he had a chance. For now, sleep was important. So with that, he laid back down, fixing the sheets about himself, and hoping that slumber came sooner than it usually did. There was an early start in the morning, and being sleep deprived would serve him little in the face of the paperwork that was to come once he walked through those god forsaken doors into that hellhole.

 

 _Right. A glass of water and some sleep. Calm my nerves and I’ll be fine._ Getting back to sleep shouldn’t be too difficult. Or, at least, he hoped it wouldn’t be, for his sake.

 

* * *

 

The popcorn was burnt. The butter didn’t seem to be helping the taste much, either. There was an adult cartoon playing on the tv- scenes of random gore and a belching scientist standing amidst the viscera pulling a chuckle from you. Morbid sense of humor, you know how it is. Sans sat on the opposite end of the couch, the two of you leaning on opposite arm rests, sharing the comforter you pulled from the bed. Getting comfortable was a feat on the damn thing, given it’s age and size. Bony legs tangled with yours, the warmth from the room settling the final buzzing of your nerves back to a normal state. That fight had taken a lot out of you. And despite your readiness to accept a truce and move forward, you were still uncertain. Still sore. Still a little afraid of what he thought of you, of what you thought of yourself, now. A brief glance at his face confirmed he was just as incapable of sleep as you were, staring blankly at the screen, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his open mouth. _Huh. Wonder where all that food even goes? Questions, questions._

 

You turn your attention to the grey bits of light on the horizon just outside the window. The signal of the day starting becoming a promise of regret for your sleeplessness. Not much you could do about it right now, really. Just deal with the day as it came, and nap when you could. At least, you hoped that you could sneak one in without the doc nagging you about professionalism again. It was nice, seeing the world wake up like this, though. Songs sung by the small sparrows darting between the buildings, the traffic outside picking up, people waking up and mulling about their apartments, the sounds of doors opening and closing. Simple. It was all simple, small everyday things. Ones filled with life. Though you had done all of your waking up three hours ago. At this point, accepting your fate of caffeine induced motivation was probably the better route to take.

 

Popcorn was a nice start. Popcorn for breakfast. Classy. Unique. Daring. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you grabbed a handful and tossed it at your face. The small puffs plopped softly against your face and dropped onto the blanket and floor. That wasn’t premeditated. Improvised and spontaneous comedy was a definite sign of sleepiness.

 

“You missed.” Sans said groggily. “Badly.”

 

A pause, and then, “I thought that would wake me up.”

 

He snorted. “Water would have worked a lot better. You won’t get far with burnt kernels and butter.”

 

The arm rest was beginning to make your back fall asleep. This was fucking uncomfortable. His head hung off the side of the couch, a mock zombie groan rumbling through his bones. “You do realize we’ve sentenced ourselves to death, right?”

 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do about it now, homez.” you drawl.

 

Cars drove past in increasing frequency outside, the morning heartbeat of the city starting up like clockwork. The time on your phone told you that in about two hours, you would be joining in, another hazy minded soul trudging through those streets on your way to make money that wouldn’t pay for the living you needed. _Thoughts, thoughts. Not negative, but not positive. Wonder what Sans thinks about when he’s this out of it? Probably sciency stuff. Or nothing at all. Nothing at all seems nice. Gods, my fucking eyes burn. I wish I had gone to sleep instead of try to find those dumb headphones. That’s what I get for being an asscrack._

 

If you hadn’t gotten up to look for your headphones, then maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe you both would have gotten a decent amount of sleep. Maybe you wouldn’t be stuck feeling like a walking, talking open wound. Your wrists didn’t hurt anymore, sure. But how were you two going to act around one another after this? It was easy now, with how out of it the two of you were. But what would happen when you were more coherent? More aware of one another? What then?

Those first ten minutes after the fight, you recalled,  were spent softly apologizing to one another, guilt and pain driving each touch to the face and hands, rubbing tenderly at the wounds inflicted. He had pressed those bruised wrists to his mouth. Then your fingers drifted along the still glowing bit of magic around his throat. A lapse in control and judgement had done more damage in one night than the two of you had done to one another in the weeks working together. Stupid things, emotions.

Those powder blue eye-lights flicked over your features, shadows playing across those tired features. Sans always looked so worn out, despite his humor. Something more was happening with him. Something that your antics and attitude problems were beginning to add on to. You could feel your own self-disgust churning in your gut, unrelenting and all-consuming. Sans noticed the change in your energy, his face the image of sorrow. Words wouldn’t work here. Their uselessness prevalent in all the ways your jaw open and closed with nothing coming out. What would convey the words neither of you were capable of voicing?

 

_Monsters are magic. It makes up most of their entire being. Emotions and intent can be felt strongly through… what? Actions? So I hug him? Is that what you do?  Something soul related, like mushy-gushy heartsy-feely crap? Actions, actions…_

 

The expression he had on his face when you placed an awkward kiss right between his eye sockets nearly had you laughing at your own embarrassment. It wasn’t much compared to everything you wanted to say, but you grabbed his hands and gave them a firm squeeze, just in case. You weren't the best at this kind of stuff. You guessed he wasn't either. Still, this would have to do for now. From the way those bony arms pulled you into a tight hug, however, you knew he understood. This wouldn’t go away in a single night. Or even a single month. But if you were willing to put forth the effort to try, than you could get through this. Move past this. Learn from this. Maybe even-

 

A piece of popcorn hit your nose and you sniffed, shaking your head, pulled from your deep recall. Sans was grinning, bowl of popcorn in hand. “Did you fall asleep with your eyes open or something? You didn’t blink for a full minute. I timed it.”

 

“I think I might have,” you say with a yawn.

 

Another episode started up, the cartoony sci-fi music oddly pleasing to your hazy senses. The living room was now bathed in bright, grey morning light. Bouncing off the metal chain on the door, the bulb in the ceiling fan, the metal back of Sans’ phone on the coffee table. It smelled like burnt food and old sheets, the touch of bone on too-warm skin, the cushions feeling a little comfier after shifting the blanket over your shoulders. Two hours. In two hours you would need to get ready for work. Did Sans need anything from his house? Should you ask? Would that ruin the moment and make reality set in a little too fast? Man. this was kind of lame. You were kind of lame. What time was it again?

 

“Yo. Bonehead. You got everything you need for work?”

 

“Just need to charge the cell. My lab coat is at work. As well as all my other stuff. I basically live at that building.” he said. “Why do you ask?”

 

 _Eh. Might as well._ You pick up the remote and shut off the tv, pulling yourself out of the tangled mass of blankets and stumbling off the couch. “Because I think I’m not going to make it without at least a little bit of sleep. So I’m going to try and squeeze in some form of it within the next two hours and some change.”

 

He nodded, the movement a tired and jerky one. “I’ll crash here th-”

 

“I want you to sleep with me.” Why yes, NASA, that is indeed the glowing blue light bulb of a monster friend of mine you can see from space.

 

“W-w-wh??” fingers clutched and wrung at the edge of the blanket in clear anxiousness. “Wh-? We literally just had a fight???”

 

You slap his knee. “Not in that way, ya nasty. I just, well. I actually tend to sleep better when I know someone is in the same bed with me. I used to do that with Undyne and Alphys when my insomnia got really bad. It helps.” you say with a shrug. “You can say no if you don’t want to, though. It has been a pretty weird night between us both.”

 

One second. Five. Ten. Thirty. A full minute passes before he can work his jaw enough to speak. “I’m not opposed to it. But if you snore in my face, I’m coming back out here. Better yet, I’ll head to work without you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. C’mon. I’m ready to pass out. You grab the blanket and I’ll snag the space heater.”

 

Sans set about gathering up the bulky fabric in his arms, tucking and grabbing it until it was a massive ball sitting atop his head, covering everything but his feet. Not a very effective way of carrying a blanket, but hey. Pulling the plug on the old grey machine silences the humming, the warm current of air fading out. The room already began to feel cold without it. So much for spring weather. Might as well still be inside frosty’s asshole. It was May! MAY. Either another ice age was going to start, or warm weather was still hiding under a rock in the tropics somewhere.

 

“If you bump into any of the walls, I’m not going to bother feeling sorry for you. Just walk straight and you should- yeah. Like that I guess? Okay I guess you don’t need my help.” It was funny, watching this make-shift skeletal blanket ghost totter down the halls uncertainly, the clacking of those bony feet adding an almost comical feel to it all. Your room was just as bright as the livingroom, to which you quickly corrected by pulling the shades down over the window with a grunt.  
Sans had already thrown himself on the bed, still bundled up, feet sticking out over the edge of the mattress. You hunted around briefly for a good spot to put the heater, promptly plugged it in, and shut the door with a kick. Taking one edge of the blanket, you give a hard tug, whirling your monster companion into the wall with a heavy thud. He looked affronted by this, giving you a non-too-friendly dirty look as he rubbed at the back of his skull.

“You could have just asked me for it.”

 

“I could have, you’re right.” you plop yourself down next to him, patting the empty spot beside you. “C’mon. You can yell at me after we’ve gotten some shut eye. I am way too tired to deal with anything reasonable right now.”

 

“You mean you’re not like this every day?” the mattress dipped as he crawled over, white shirt and baggy basketball shorts hanging loosely from his bony frame. Those sockets eyed the fluffy pillow before him with obvious delight, Sans throwing himself onto it face down with a sigh. “Yeeeeeeessss.” came his muffled voice. “This is much better than your couch.”

 

You snorted. “Glad to hear it. Here. Blankets. Now sleep. Or at least try to.”

 

Shuffling filled the silence of the room for a bit, the two of you settling in, the blankets still thankfully warm around you. Familiar comfort in the softness around sending you into an immediate lull. It seemed your skeletal friend was having trouble though, still fidgeting a bit and attempting to fix himself to get comfortable. Giving it another minute or two, you decide to turn around and toss an arm over his spine. This freezes him in place immediately.

 

“Stop moving around so much, will you?”

 

“Sorry.” he mumbled, tossing an arm over your shoulder in turn. “So you’re okay like this? You don’t mind me… even after-?”

 

“Sans.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

 

“Only if you tell me you set an alarm for us to wake up so we don’t royally piss off the former royal scientist.” he quipped.

“Yes. I set it to go off at the same time every day. We’ll be fine. So go to sleep.” you knock your forehead to his sternum. “I need sleeeeeeeeeeeep. So shut up already.”

 

“Fine, fine.” he sighed softly, burying his face in your hair. “G’night.”

 

“Mm.”

 

It wasn’t long before you both drifted off, the static sounds of city life outside the dirty, blind covered window sending muffled reverberations around the tiny space. The night was a long one. The throbbing of your heart and your wrists looming like a ghost already in the distance. Funny, how quickly you could move past these things if communication was an open channel. But what was the point of thinking about this now? Best to drift off without the burden of thought. There was someone next to you, a warm and comfortable space around you, and an alarm to wake you. It was going to be alright.

 

* * *

 

 _It was NOT alright_ . The alarm didn’t go off. Because you didn’t charge your phone. You didn’t charge your phone, because you forgot to plug it in after fighting with Sans. Likewise, Sans didn’t get a chance to set an alarm on _his_ phone, because he was too busy having confidence in your sorry ass about waking up on time. You scrambled for clothes, a shower, some shoes and your keys before darting out the door, nearly leaving Sans in your vapor trail before he clamped a hand down on your wrist, calling your name loudly, tugging you backward. He knew a shortcut, one that would be much quicker than the usual trek to work you made everyday. You were halfway down the staircase, tripping over your untied boot laces, keys in your mouth as you attempted to shove your nest of hair underneath the beanie you pulled over your head. There was no fucking time to question him, so you just nodded, stumbling down the last few steps, kneeling down briefly to stuff the laces under the tongue of the boot, (you’d tie them later), and letting him lead the way.

 

The world was a blur of color and motion as he ran ahead, hand still in yours as he towed you behind him. The city air was crisp and filled with odd smells and sounds. Something warm prickled along your skin as he took a hard left around a church corner, nearly having you smack into a fire hydrant attempting to keep up. You were going to say something, chew him out, tell him to slow down, but a familiar looking building loomed into view and you were overcome, instead, with confusion. How did he manage to-? How did that-?

 

... _What???_

 

* * *

 

Three coworkers sat at an office desk in a stuffy room on a too-early spring morning. Each with a caffeinated beverage, sporting heavy shadows beneath their eyes to varying degrees. The smell of coffee and still untouched cinnamon rolls and muffins filled the air with a sweet aroma. One which none of the three were keen on noticing at the moment. In an adjacent room, a phone range. The one for the waiting room. The secretary wasn’t in yet. Which meant it would be ringing off the hook for a while. Again, something neither of them bothered to put at the forefront of their minds as the sun rose from the horizon, bits of gold light bouncing around cheerily in the darkly furnished office.

Gaster drew the blinds with a grunt, his face the very image of annoyance and exhaustion. Sans was staring sleepily into his steaming mug of dark coffee, his entire face nearly pressed into it, stifling yet another obnoxious yawn. You balanced your chin on one hand, the cold energy drink in your hand half full, your mind empty, your stomach growling for something more than chemical bullshit to be put into it. There were two empty bottled of five hour energy still sitting atop a stack of files near Gaster’s elbow. If he noticed them at all, you couldn’t tell. He was too busy scowling into his thermos. The office was silent for nearly twenty minutes, before he finally spoke up, his voice hoarse and gruff, as if he had just woken up himself.

 

“I see you two came in to work together this morning. I’d ask, but a part of me is too tired to actually care. So all I will say is this; if you broke anything, upset anyone or killed anyone, I want no part of it.”

 

A heavy thud from one side of the desk startled the two of you. Sans’ head was on the desk. Lolled off to one side, hands still clasping the mug, soft snores filling the room. That shouldn’t have looked comfortable or pleasing. But it did.  “Eh, don’t sweat it doc. I’ll tell you about it later.”

 

He nodded, eyes still on his comatose brother. You took another swig from your can. It was beautifully cold, and awful tasting. Caffeine was the drug of choice today. And with how loudly your body screamed for sleep, it was clear it would be the champion hero throughout the coming hours. You finished the last of it, feeling no change whatsoever in your mood. Eyeing the empty bottles off to the side, you motion to one with your chin.

 

“Yo doc. You got another one you can spare? I think I’m gunna need it.”

 

A fine brow bone quirked at you. “Do you want to have your human heart prematurely give out? You just had a whole can of garbage. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

 

“Not when sleep is as evasive as a dodgy father unwilling to pay child support.” you reach over to pull open a draw and check. But he slaps your hand away, shutting it.

 

“I’m not going to be responsible for your stupidity today.” he grumbled.

 

“Bite me.” you retort.

 

The knowing smirk that earned you had you feeling six different forms of awkward and embarrassed. Not only was the night's more angsty events beginning to blur out into the background noise of day to day life, but so was the brief moment of scandal you had with this tall drink of salt water. Not to say you didn’t enjoy it. Those fangs were so pretty. You may have a mild fascination to them. And Gaster, that sneaky shit face ghoul skeleton garbage can, plucked a cinnamon roll from the small plate and took a decisive bite. Those glinting fangs coming into view, little peeks of purple-black gums making your eye twitch from the need to get a closer look. A dark violet tongue darted out to lick at a bit of icing on his lip.

Just like that, the memory of that mouth on yours sent a pleasant shiver down your spin, heart jolting briefly in your chest. He knew what he was doing. The conniving flirt. What happened to all his bravado? To his salt pillar schtick? _Man, fuck this guy._ _I am not attracted to him. I had a moment of weakness. Weakness! I don't like him. Or anyone. Or that could just be me being a grumpy, tired jerk. Who knows._ You pick up a muffin and take a messy bite, deliberately avoiding his smug side-eye.

 

“Whatever.” you mumble around a mouthful of blueberry sweetness. It was a dry, which meant another trip to the vending machine for another cold drink. _Sigh. Goddamnit. What is my life turning into with these two numbskulls?_

 

Three coworkers sat around an office table in a stuffy room, one of them out cold. It was a too-early start coming from a too long night. Not one of them cared to look at the agenda for the day. Not without a substantial amount of fuel in their system to power their levels of apathy above murder levels and into the gentle maiming area. It was two hours into the workday, the phone next door continuing to ring on and off again. If any progress were to be made, it would be best to get started soon.

 

It was going to be a long day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually surprised I got this done! I started doing my work on google docs, so that it would auto save! I now no longer lose my work. Just my sleep. But PSSSSSSHHHHHHH. Who needs THAT, amiright? 
> 
> Hope all you peeps are doing alright out there! Remember, I'm always in the comments! Feel free to scream at me about whatever! Questions, comments, sacrificial offerings, suggestions, you name it! Now get out there and drink some caffeine! Or juice if you can't. Sugar is good too. 
> 
> WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!


	10. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity killed the cat.
> 
> (Minor plot building chapter!)

The city below was buzzing with life at top speed. Cars speeding by, honking at one another, people dotting the sidewalks, congesting the crosswalks between every red light. Mornings in this town were always a bit more of a racket come ten thirty or so. Not a bad thing for all the people sitting outside experiencing it. Yet it always aggravated you whenever you were the one examining from the safety of a window. From the cover of a building, safe from being pushed around in the throngs of human herds mumbling, grumbling, sighing amongst one another. Not something you wanted to experience, even on a good day. A weary groan tears itself from your lips, sending small vibrations through the metal of the second energy drink you were nursing in under an hour. Gods above, did your eyes hurt. Tired and stinging from all that sunlight pouring through the office and into your face. The doc drew the curtains beforehand, but the darker atmosphere just made you sleepier. You figured sitting and stewing in your own aggravation in the sunlight gave you a much better chance at staying awake. So far, the result was about the same.

 

“Must you sit there and make such noises every ten minutes? We are trying to work here.” The doc looked over, his lab coat discarded and abandoned on the back of his chair as he continued pacing about the office, clipboard in hand. That thing never seemed to leave his hands. That, and his special pen. Probably an expensive one, from how attached he was to it. Although now it was pointing menacingly towards you, his whole body towering over your smaller one as you sat in his swivel chair, slouched sloppily.

 

“Can’t help it if I’m bored out of my goddamn mind. Aren’t I supposed to be working as well? Why keep me around if you don’t have any work for me or anything?” Sure, you were supposed to be a guinea pig here. But even _actual_ guinea pigs had more to do than you did right now. It’s been an hour and a half, and all you’ve done is stare out the window and bitch about how cold the office was. They fixed the AC unit for sure. No more loud rumbling. But jesus _christ_ it was freezing in here! It was still cold outside too! Did these two just not feel it?

 

“Pipe down, _____. You’ll get back to your regularly scheduled poking and prodding. But right now, we’re putting together the data we got from the last round of tests. We don’t need you for anything else right now. So you’re just going to have to be patient until we’re done.” Sans was leaning back in his chair, caffeine kicking in quicker than you thought it would for the small skeletal monster. Those sockets still spoke of exhaustion and lingering sleep. But all in all, he was much more alert than he had been a half hour prior. “If you want, you can help out the secretary out front. Send in the clients for our temps in the lab, and let them do the sorting since we’re busy.”

 

“So what, just go out there and help sort the sheep? Whoopdee. Sounds like loads of fun.” you took another swig from the can. It felt blissful and cold, the carbonation painful on your tongue from the large gulp. “Not that I don’t think that’s a boring idea, but that’s a boring idea.”

 

“Yikes. Looks like someone has their ass bit by the grump bug.” he said, waving a stack of papers.

 

“Look.” Gaster interrupted, slapping a hand onto the back of the chair you were sitting in, still pointing in your face. “If you want something to do, go out there and help. Or go clean something up in the breakroom. Hell, I don’t care, go explore the halls! Just stop with this incessant bitching or I’ll send you home, _without pay._ ” he added at your hopeful expression. It dropped into a sour one. “I do not care either way. Just let us work. Come tomorrow, we will have more definitive work for you. As for right now? We need to work on this. Which, fortunately, does not require your direct cooperation.”

 

“Fortunately?” you said.

 

“Get up and do something productive. I do not care what.” he ignored you, moving back to his pacing before the desk. “Come back here in two hours. Lunch will be at half past noon, and we might have something for you then.”

 

Gaster said no more, his attention now directed back at the clipboard, flipping through a few pages as he mumbled to himself. You cast a glance at Sans, but he isn’t looking your way either. Just typing away on a small laptop balancing on one of his knees. Looks like that was the end of that brief argument. Doesn’t look like you could negotiate an early leave either. With that, you stand from your spot in the comfy swivel. You still had five and half hours on the clock. Might as well get over your temporary tantrum and go find something fun to do in the meantime.   
Dumping the remaining bit of carbonated caffeine into your mouth, you chuck the can into the waste bin by the door and shuffle back out into the hall. Two hours on the clock until lunch time. So, what should you do? Explore a bit? Or head on over to help the secretary? Despite all your complaints, doing actual work right now didn’t quite appeal to you. Lack of sleep gave remarkably little drive or determination to do any form of decent work at all. That being said, looks like exploring was the only thing to do. Hm… wonder if there are any spare rooms to sleep in around here?

* * *

 

Your feet feel so heavy, the heels of your boots dragging on the tile, scuffing the floor as your steps echo through the halls. Sunlight still filters through the open doors, lighting up the white tile before you. Bright and headache inducing lights above you still just as annoying as ever. Though, you hadn’t really ever seen them much outside of the observation room you had become so familiar with in the past month and some change. The budget was either good enough to afford such bright nuisances, or bad enough not to be able to replace them with something a little more eyeball-friendly. Judging by the state of the floors in some areas, (broken tile exposing the black underside of the concrete that supported it, with mystery stains in multiple areas), the budget probably wasn’t all that great, meaning it was the latter of the two. So far, all you’ve seen circling around the clinic wing you normally resided in had been empty observation rooms and small offices with closed doors and muffled voices behind them. It wasn’t until you took a turn at the opposite end of the side you normally entered through that something caught the attention of your foggy mind.

A green exit sign to your right showed a blocked off stairwell with a sign that said, ‘Please Use Elevator. -B Wing Staff’. Now there was something new. You’d heard of elevators being blocked off for maintenance reasons. But a stairwell? That’s new. And odd. Taking a brief glance around revealed you to be the only one meandering around the place at this hour. Not that breaking the rules wasn’t a bad thing, but what harm could it really do? Then again, getting in trouble might reflect badly on the doc and his short assistant. It could mean going home without pay if you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be.

One shoe taps nervously on the tile, your head swiveling about quickly one more time to see if anyone new had come along. Muffled street sounds floated through the distant windows down the hall. Still nobody in sight. If you _did_ decide to take a peek, the most someone would do is tell you not to go down there, right? Oh wait. Alarm. What if this door had an alarm on it or something? Or wait, you could just look through the small window on the door. See if anything was down there? Might be a safer bet. At least you’d look nosey, instead of guilty.

You press your face to the glass, careful to avoid pushing it open. At first, it didn’t look like much. Just another dirty stairwell with the same dingy steps as everywhere else in this dumb building. ‘Wing B’ was stenciled onto the wall to the right in red paint, bits of it worn away at the edges and illuminated by a single overhead light. Didn’t look like there were any windows in the well either. An old gum wrapper and even a chewed up wad of gum was sitting on the bottom step on the side going to the upper floors. _Booooooring._ You thought to yourself. Why the heck was this place closed off if there wasn’t anything cool happening in there?

On any normal given day, you’d be quick to avoid trouble. Never bothering to break any rules. Not at first anyway. Get to know the situation first, make a good impression, _then_ break the rules when no one expects it from you! Today, you were tired. Exhausted. Certainly not willing to entertain the idea of being obedient or boring. That would mean premature loss of energy on a long as hell workday. Being a bit restless and grumpy could also be a cause for wanting to cause mischief today. But hey, it could literally be anything at this point, right?

 _Eh, fuck it._ You push the door open a crack, just enough to stick your head through. The opposite view from the door was still the same. Boring old dingy stairs. But the view hidden by the blind spot of the door off to the left? It was covered in cracks. The stairs stained black and even large chunks of it crumbling off. Large bits of debris sat near the bottom step, small bits of black metal rods sticking out of them. There was yellow caution tape along the bottom railing when you took a step closer to look over the edge. Christ it was dark as pitch down there! Any lights that may have been present could have likely been blown out. Was there an accident here? Those large cracks seemed to extend from the darkness below. And goddamn if your curiosity didn’t get the best of you.

You yank your phone out of your pocket, pushing the lock button. Nothing happened. Because like an idiot, you had forgotten to charge your phone. Didn’t even bring a charger. _Aaaaaaah. Crap. There goes the potential for adventure sleuthing. Looks like it’s back to roaming the halls again._

 

_CLACK! Rattle rattle rattle._

 

 _HUH??_ Something fell out of your pocket? You pick up a boot, eyes locking onto the small blue object. Your keys had fallen out...and something had fallen off the keys? Oh! It was the small LED keychain light you got a few months back with a small tool set you bought online! Holy YES!! _Thank you coincidental gods of petty human needs! May your glory be forever praised by idiots like me!_ You snatched it up quickly, fumbling to twist it, the small light flickering a few times before the beam of light was finally steady. You crouch by the railing, sticking your hand between the bars and shining it directly down into the darkness. The damage down there looked much, _much_ worse. Forget the small pieces of concrete and bits of wall sitting around up here. There were _massive_ boulders of shit down there! Holy crap! The cracks seemed to come from a specific spot just out of view. It looked a lot more like a small explosion happened and the blast radius reached up to this floor. Three flights of stairs down, and it still did that much damage? What the hell had caused it?

Flicking the light about in different spots had the beam of light landing on a worn away ‘B’ on the very bottom wall. Squinting to get a better look, you lean a bit further out, shuffling in place. Did this place have old heaters? The big clunky ones like in the old horror movies you used to watch? What if Freddy Krueger were down there? Or wait, was Freddy the guy who haunted dreams? Okay, what if the SAW guy was down there? Or that one thing from that shitty witch project movie? Or even-

 

_SHIT!_

 

The small flashlight slipped from your fingers, falling and clattering against the concrete at the very bottom, the light cutting off on impact. You swore audibly, the whisper sounding harsh in its echo. _So much for curiosity. There goes my only light. Wonder if Gaster or Sans have a spare flashlight in the office? Or wait, no. They’d think it suspicious if I suddenly asked them for a flashlight. Maybe I could tell them I just want to practice shadow puppets? Would they believe that? Nah, probably not. Might as well ask the secretary, then. They wouldn’t think it suspicious if you just said one of the docs asked you to retrieve one. Yeah, good. Solid plan. No one would suspect a thing._

 

Before you could get up, a warm yellow glow illuminated the rubble and your pathetic little flashlight laying on its side down below. The soft and familiar shuffling sound of bare feet on solid ground registered as you quickly ducked behind the landing, falling on your butt and drawing your knees up to your chest, eyes wide, slapping a hand over your mouth. If someone found you here, you could really get your ass in trouble! Okay, just open the door, and go back out into the hall. Quietly! Maybe they wouldn’t hear you.

 

“H-hello?” you froze, your brain registering that voice immediately. “I-is anyone there?”

 

_Alphys?? What the hell is she doing here? And in a creepy looking basement accident, no less?_

 

* * *

 

“Was it really a wise idea to let them wander around, doc? You know that human has a tendency to get themselves into trouble, right? What if they have a panic attack or something?” Sans was still typing away, trying to make sense of the mess of scribbles on the paper before him. Putting all of Gaster’s notes into a coherent report was a harrowing task. Even for someone like him. But then, he had always been the neater of the two when it came to compiling information. In terms of actual organization, Gaster was much better. He scrunched his face at a particularly difficult looking line of scribbles in one of the margins. “I mean, I’m not saying we should have sent a chaperone with them, but having someone babysit our human for a while may have been a smarter idea.”

 

Gaster looked up briefly from his spot back at the desk, hunched over his own laptop in kind. He was silent for a moment, eyelights flickering around the room in brief thought before shrugging and returning to the screen. “I’m sure they will be just fine. There isn’t much trouble anyone can get to in this place. That, and there are plenty of workers meandering about the place at this hour. There will be someone out there to catch them or help them if something were to happen.” he rubbed at his forehead. “Sans, could you read me the data from the table on page six? This one here is missing some data.”

 

“Sure thing, doc.” he rattled off some numbers, then sighed. “Gas, I don’t mean to be a worry wart or nothin, but I can’t shake the feeling that maybe we should send someone to find them, look after them maybe?”

 

“Sans, you are worrying for nothing.” Gaster said. “They’ll be just fine. What harm or trouble could they possibly come to in a place like this? They’d have to be an idiot expert.”

 

Not being able to argue that point, the skeleton assistant just shrugged and continued deciphering the notes. He was sure Gaster had a point. It was reasonable to assume you would be just fine out there, really. Besides, if you got into any kind of trouble or got hurt, you could at least be treated for it here. B wing, where they were located, was the clinic. The infirmary was in C, and the main office buildings where the lobby and library were was down in A. The upper wings, D and E, were reserved for psychiatric treatments and had an adjacent patient wing. That required employee access and clearance. Which you had neither. So no trouble there.

 

_Heh. what am i so worried about? Just your tired skull finding the worst case scenario in everything again. Old habits die hard, huh. Just focus on the work, sansy boy. The human will be fine. They’ll be fine…_

 

“What was the equation on page 26 again?” Gaster’s voice cut through the thick fog of worry, dragging his eyes back from where they squinted at the black lines. He looked concerned for a brief moment. “Sans? Are you alright? Are you still concerned about _____?”

 

Caught. “Ah, heh. Yeah, guess i can’t shake this feeling. We, uh, we didn’t sleep much last night. Granted, neither did you. But monsters can handle it much better than humans. Just worried they might fall asleep somewhere weird.” No, that wasn’t it. It was something else. Something else was gnawing at his skull, sending his soul into nervous rhythms in his chest. But without any real idea of where it was coming from, or any way to actually describe it, how could he even begin to explain it to his brother? So Sans simply shook his head, slouching in his seat. There’s nothing to be done about it.

 

Gaster, though reluctant to feed into his brother’s worries, decided to assuage him anyway. “If _____ got into trouble, I’m sure it wouldn’t be very serious. Again, there isn’t much here they could break or disrupt. A lot of the areas that _could_ be potentially dangerous are all effectively closed off or locked off to everyone but official personnel in this building.” he said. “That, and if they got into anything serious despite all of that, they could simply call us. Both of our numbers are on their phone, as well as the main clinic’s phone number. Either way, they will be fine. Alright?”

 

“Guess you’re right, doc. Don’t know why I’m worrying my bones about it. It’s only a couple hours by themselves. No one can cause that much trouble in so little time.” he said with a smirk. Gaster nodded, satisfied with his answer. With that, the two dove back into their work, the monotonous clicking of keyboard key against bone filling the silence, the small clock on the wall ticking away silently as time passed. The light outside started to dip behind large clouds, cutting off the aggressive sunlight from the stuffy office. Worrying about you wouldn’t do much good right now. There was a lot of data to compile and work to do, after all.

* * *

 

“H-hello? Helloooo?” came that nervous voice again.

 

Just what the heck was your scaly best friend doing in this part of the building? You didn’t even think she worked there? Well, she never told you, really. You knew she worked at some lab or something. But this was a clinic! Some weird pseudo hospital place that stood in for an actual high class, well built one like the ones in the bigger cities further down the highways that lead out of the town. If Alphys ever mentioned working with the salty scientist and your punny bone-friend, you couldn’t recall. Every bit of your common sense told you to get the hell out of the stairwell and walk back towards the main clinic office and pretend nothing ever happened. But your curiosity whispered and stroked and smirked at the thought of being able to uncover something _totally fucking awesome_ at the site of what you think was an explosion. You wanted so badly to explore it just a _little_ more before leaving. What would she say if she saw you, though?

Wait, come to think of it, why _were_ you hiding from her in the first place? This was your friend you were talking about. Sure, being caught in a restricted and damaged area could come off as nosey and idiotic to her, but at least you wouldn’t get in that much trouble. Maybe she might even invite you down, to see what was down there! You nod to yourself, scooting forward to duck your head and peek out between the bars again when you heard another voice call out from somewhere further. It sounded robotic, but not a stiff kind of robotic. Almost like a pleasant male voice were speaking into a voice changer or something. Robot sounding, but, not robotic??

 

“Alphys, dear, could you please come back here and finish the tune-up? YOU might be fine hanging out in this dump of a basement on a perfectly beautiful day, but I’M certainly not having it.” Man, did that bot-man sound snooty. Even from where you were sitting, the sass levels were over nine thousand.

 

Alphys didn’t respond, but you could hear her grumbles fade away, disappearing further down a hall just out of your view. Their shadows blocked the light, their shadows dancing along the wall and growing larger the further they walked. The second shadow next to hers was tall, with an hourglass shaped figure and pointy shoulder pads or something. _Wonder who that person is? I should make a point to ask Alphys about her coworkers more. I think I talk too much during our long discussions everytime I come over her place. I should listen to her more…_ you rock back a bit, ready to stand, when an idea hits you. _Huh. I could technically go retrieve the light while their back is turned. If I’m sneaky enough, I can even come back up and pretend nothing happened! If Alph sees me, I’ll just say I went out into the stairwell to look, and dropped my flashlight and keys. Perfectly innocent. I’ll flesh it out later. But for noooow~_

One boot hits the top stair, testing it, before you shuffle down the rest of the steps on your butt, walking like a crab, making sure to be as quiet as possible. It got particularly tricky where the stairs turned more into pieces of jutting concrete that you had to balance on, rather than a firm surface you could easily descend. The hall was still flooded with that same warm glow, your eyes locking onto the small blue object hidden just behind a fist-sized piece of dusty debris a few feet away. Your foot hit the last step, your body back into a careful standing position, before the light was cut off completely, the sound of a heavy door slamming shut sending your senses into immediate darkness, fear spiking in your gut seconds afterward. Even the small light from the bulb three flights up didn’t quite reach down here. Darkness wasn’t a scary factor, per se, but jesus christ in a hand basket on easter sunday, was it _terrifying_ to be stuck in the dark like this. If you couldn’t find the flashlight, you’d be stuck trying to scramble back up those steps, probably slipping and falling and hurting yourself all because you tried to be a nosy little _idiot_! You fumble and grope around in the dark, searching your mind for the brief snapshot of the rubble to figure out the general location of the flashlight so you could get the hell out of here with it. Oh cripes, why did you even come down here? Why did you bother trying to explore a place like this? Why didn’t you just leave the fucking thing once you dropped it? You shouldn’t have come into the stairwell in the first place! You could be bored and safe and in well-lit hallways instead of being not-safe and stuck in the dark and possibly trapped if the flashlight broke during that fall!

Suddenly, your mind began replaying every single horror movie and scary story you read about demons in the dark and scary killers or lurking monsters with gangly limbs and shaggy hair and gnashing teeth. A cold shiver ran down your spine, your heartbeat picking up, your breathing becoming more erratic the harder you tried to shake the images from your head. Goddamn it brain, stop it! You weren’t ten anymore! Monsters didn’t exist! Well.. they did, actually. Just no the ones from those stories! At least…. You didn’t think so?

Your fingers finally brushed against the cool metal of the small flashlight, your heart skipping a beat as you scooped it up quickly, silently praying that the thing still worked as you twisted the front of it with shaky hands. It flickered once, twice, three times. Just as that cold dread threatened to resurface, the light flicked on, dim, but steady. You sent a second flashy prayer of thanks to the Convenience gods and took a moment to steady your breathing before deciding to take a quick scan of the basement landing.

The floor where you stood was black, large, thick lines of the mystery stain stretching up along the walls,the cracks leaving no place untouched. It looked like a real shit-show down here. Everything was broken, and nearly everything burned with that same black. Although your shoes and hands didn’t come up black where you touched the wall and ground experimentally. _Curiouser and curiouser_ , you hummed to yourself, turning slowly. The beam of light lit up the hall Alphys and her mystery guest had walked down minutes prior. It was lined with multiple doors on either end of the hall. The walls were grey, old, and bare. No signs tacked up on them to warn employees of hazards or safety precautions. No arrows or room number signs. Just blank doors with tiny windows by the knobs. Some of them blocked off, from the looks of it. Despite your earlier desire to get the hell out of this place, your curiosity took hold once again, urging you forward, boots crunching over small rocks, dust and dirt. The small flashlight certainly wasn’t bright enough to illuminate everything to the degree you would have liked. But this would simply have to do.

It wasn’t until you reached the second to last door on the left that the thought of your flashlight dying on you filled you with a second wave of fear that had you turning around immediately to make your way back. But before you could get to far, a shuffling sound met your ears. It came from that second to last door. Hesitation and your burning desire to investigate fought each other for a few brief seconds. _Aw hell. I won’t get another chance, right? May as well… check it out. Just for a second! Then, I’m back up those stairs and getting some lunch! Yeah. Okay. Good. Just a quick peek._

If the flashlight died, it was just a short shot to the stairs, anyway. You could grope around carefully. Better do this quick, before anyone finds out where you are, though. Shuffling back over, you point the light at the tiny window. The blocker over the front of it had a tiny knob to pull it back, the dark brown paint slightly peeling from the edges. Careful fingers tug at it, the metal catching slightly, jittering briefly as it was wiggled further back in place. A soft white light immediately poured into the hall. These rooms must have been shut tight, because that light didn’t even come through the top of bottom of the door!

 _This is weird._ You thought, unnerved. _Like, really, REALLY weird. It looks like these doors are meant to keep people in or something. Or observed…_

Ducking your head low, you squint as your eyes adjust, blinking a few times as the contents of the room came into view. It was mostly empty, save for a wall of blinking lights, and a large ceiling with various tubes and wires hanging from it. The floor seemed to have different tiles than that of the hall, all grey and large and practically immaculate. Something hummed faintly inside, along with something else you couldn’t quite figure out. You take your time, focusing on every small detail as you shuffled closer, hands now on placed flat on either side of the knob. A single light poured in from above, and there was… you squint hard. Was that…. A small plant pot? Were they trying to grow something here? Not exactly the ideal environment for plant growth, really.

Something small and yellow popped up from the center of it, turning to the door. It was a flower. Bright yellow petals and a… a…

Did that thing have a _face????_

You rub your eyes staring in disbelief. Could this be another monster? But- but you hadn’t _seen_ any talking flowers on the surface before?? You had seen quite a few aquatic ones like Undyne and Alphys, and hell, even a few ghost monsters floating around the graveyard just outside of town by the old glass-making factory, but a _flower???_ It clearly had a face, those bored eyes scanning its surroundings, and that mouth of its yawning widely, revealing more than a few sharp teeth. Gods above, a flower with teeth? That was fucking terrifying! Maybe… maybe it was vicious? Maybe this monster was a lot like the ones Sans had talked to you about? The ones with higher aggression levels? Ooooooh, boy. Noooo thanks. If this was the case, you needed to GTFO.

For some reason, though, you kept staring, your hands still on the cold metal of the heavy door. The flower didn’t appear to be doing anything much. Just sitting there and looking around with a bored expression. Curiosity ate away at you once more. Sitting around for a little longer could reveal something interesting? Oh, crap. The little flower disappeared into the pot again. That was a short lived experience. _Better head back anyway. Don’t know how long I’ve been down here. Damn. What time is it?_

 

_THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._

 

“Honestly, darling, I don’t know why you bother with this place at all.” OH SHIT. “You could easily have relocated this section into the newer research building! I’d much rather have my regular tune-ups done _there_.”

 

Your entire stomach dropped into your ass as you heard beeping tones on the other side of the door at the end of the hall. Alphys was saying something back, but your ears were filled with the loud sound of your rapid heartbeat and rushing blood. Your legs felt like lead weights, and you shut the window with a loud click, feet dancing around in place as you tried to look for some place to hide. The rubble down the hall was too far! You wouldn’t make it before they opened that door! You flicked the flashlight around in a blind panic, eyeing whatever large objects could help save you in this moment. The beeping turned into a long tone, followed by a monotone female voice saying, ‘access granted’. Oh shit, oh shitohshitohshit! You were gunna get caught at this point! Alphys or not, you weren’t about to be caught red-handed being a nosey asshole! You’d never hear the end of it! You’d have a chaperone all the time!  _What if they docked your pay for this?!_

You had no more time to think, the door began to open, light pouring back into the hall, shadows cutting through and dancing along the walls. Your hands shot out, gripping the doorknob in front of you and yanking it open, running inside and shutting it as quietly as you could, the rumbling sound of the large metal door clanging to a full stop rumbled through the walls.

* * *

 

Damn, his stalk was sore. All of that traveling around the building was beginning to wear away at him. The human concrete base for this place was hard to phase through, his magic struggling to separate and reform his physical form every time he decided to agree to one of Alphys’ idiotic ‘errands’ for him. It was much better moving through the damn dirt. At least dirt and earth had a more porous form to move through. Lots of holes and empty spaces for his magic and dust to dissipate and reform into. Hell, even wood was more porous than this crap! So much for easy access and the upper hand. Moving even to the next room over cost him at least a quarter of his own magic power.

He sighed, clicking a few buttons on the panel that controlled the power to his observation cell. The panel had various pieces of tape and labels just beneath them. He ignored them, pushing the one for the speaker system and the pairing unit. If he was going to be stuck in that godforsaken room, he could at least make it feel less like a confining prison dump and give himself some perks for being gracious enough to agree to all these stupid tests.Put on some music and forget about all this crap. Fuck the human government and their irrational fears of monsters overthrowing their petty, easily toppled system. Not that they weren’t wrong to be afraid of _him_. But forcing everyone else to adhere to weird laws and even dragging their own species into it? Idiotic move. It wouldn’t be long before another human war broke out, making the monsters a part of their genocide for a second time in history.

Pushing the cover shut, he ducked back under the floor, focusing on rephasing into his pot on the the other side of the wall. But not before snagging the old monster phone Alphys had left on an adjacent table. Focusing his strength on rephasing and using it on an object at the same time sapped him more than he thought it would. And damn it if he didn’t nearly feel like passing out by the time he came out on the other side, the familiar soil touching his weary roots with warmth. Something was different, though. There were… fingers in the soil. Still in mid-prod when he turned around. There were two wide, slightly droopy, dark eyes staring back at him. Human eyes. There was a human with fingers in his soul. Mouth agape as he quirked a brow at them.

 

“Mind takin’ your fingers out of my space, buddy? You’re getting a little too personal for someone I just met, don’t you think?”

 

He couldn’t tell if they were male or female. Even their clothes were highly generic. Just like that other human. Just like Frisk. Come to think of it, even Chara looked like them. Wonder if all humans look like that? Granted, contact with them had been minimum. But a clear distinction between the male and female genders was prevalent. Not in this one though. Before Flowey could open his mouth to speak again, the human had opened their mouth, pointing a shaky finger at him.

 

“A-a-are y-you a monster?”

 

…….Guess they weren’t of the bright variety either.

* * *

 

“Alright, that’s the last of it.” Sans shut the laptop, having sent the final few pages through the printer and faxing the rest to the higher-ups. “The report has been sent. Meaning, break time!” man, the sound of a nice break and some food sounded almost heavenly at this point.

 

“Yes, yes.” grumbled the taller of the two. Various ethereal hands were flipping through and organizing papers around the desk, stacking them in different areas along its surface. “Just one moment. I’m nearly finished here.”

 

“Nearly finished as in, ten minutes? Or nearly finished as in two more hours?” Sans knew his brother well enough to know which one he meant. Judging by his expression, this was the latter. “C’mon, Gas. It’s like, two minutes to twelve thirty. We need to check up on _____ and get some grub. They haven’t come back yet, and I’m willing to bet they fell asleep somewhere.” His lab coat lay on the floor beside him, and he crouched, attempting to locate the pockets. Once he retrieved his phone, he stood, bringing up your contact and hitting the ‘call’ icon while walking over to the desk. It beeped in his ear as he plucked the pen from Gaster’s fingers, sending him a pointed look before pacing slowly.

 

“I was using that!” He griped, attempting to snatch it back.

 

“Yes, and now I’m using it. To make sure sure you don’t work through lunch. Finish putting the papers up, doc. I’ll focus on finding our human.” he said, pulling it out of reach.

 

Gaster grumbled, standing from his own chair, bones clicking in place and cracking in his joints. He grunted, rubbing at his lower back. The sun was high in the sky, now. Still covered occasionally by a cloud or two. His mind was in a fog, barely registering the smaller details of the familiar space. But then, sleep did that to you. Took what was once familiar, and rendered it in a dream-like state. There were people mulling about the halls again, the occasional nurse and assistant walking by quickly, folders in hand, talking hurriedly to one another just outside his office window. The day was as it had always been. For some reason, though, his soul felt lacking. Like it needed something to slot into place to make it feel better. To make the familiarity of it more personal.

His mind turned to you, the image of you sitting in his large chair, his sweater over your frame, your face pouting, those boots on your feet untied, the laces dragging on the carpet as you kicked out your legs in defiance. How was it you made such a clear and conscious impression in his mind, in his routine? Enough so that he could hardly find the scene comfortable or familiar without you in it? He had to admit, lunch alongside you did sound like a nice reprieve from all this dull work. With the report finally sent in, he could have more time to relax, more time to spend doing… average things.

He shook his head. _Relax? Since when have I ever used such a word? And what does an average thing even mean? What has that odd human turned me into? Perhaps not getting enough rest last night is beginning to take its toll on me._

Sans’ face suddenly scrunched up, withdrawing the cell from beside his head. The uncertainty there gave Gaster pause, his own eyes searching his brother’s expression carefully as he stepped around the desk to face him. One bony finger clicked the screen twice, the ringing tone in the speaker being abruptly cut short.

“That’s the third time it was sent to voicemail. I mean I expected them to have fallen asleep somewhere. But you’d think their cell would wake them up after the first two times it rang.” well now. That was  bit concerning.

 

“They did not leave their phone here, did they?” Gaster quickly looked about. “When did you see them with it last?”

 

“When they left the room. I know i saw them with it in their pocket. So there’s no reason they woud-” his sockets went out briefly. “Shit.”

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“I forgot their phone died. They didn’t charge it.” shoving the phone into his pant pocket, he opened up the door to the office. “No cell means no direct contact with them. If we can’t contact them, it means we need to go around hunting for a lost human in this damn building.”

 

Gaster huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They honestly are more trouble than they are worth. I’ll search A wing. You search C.”

 

“So much for a lunch break.” Sans grumbled before teleporting out of sight.

 

He remained, making sure to draw the blinds and lock up his office before heading out towards the elevators. His polished shoes clicked on the tile loudly, his pace quick and aggravated. In these halls, he had to always be sure to set his face in a scowl, ensuring no one would stop him or point an idiotic question his way. Intimidation may not be productive in a work environment, but it would make a clear path to the places he wished to go without much hindrance. Working with humans was annoying. Always whining or floundering about or asking idiotic things. But then, even the monster staff here would do the same. Either way, he needed to search A wing quickly and efficiently.   
He took a corner sharply, the trail of his long black coat billowing out behind him and nearly startling a female nurse out of her pale skin. She shrunk back, holding a paper up to her face in fear, small hands clutching the edges of it as she blinked in surprise up at him. She was tiny. New, probably. Her voice was shaky as she attempted to address him.

 

“D-doctor Gaster! I’m sorry! I-”

 

He grunted pushing past her. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

The elevators were in sight, the doors open as a few people stepped out. He ducked in, head nearly touching the top of the small space before he jabbed at the ground floor button. The tiny secretary was still visible down the hall, her hand coming up in a nervous wave as the doors closed before him. He really did feel bad when he scared others like that. But now was not the time. He would be sure to make amends at some point, if she stuck around. Right now, he needed to find you. Granted, this building wasn’t incredibly large. But there was the possibility you had wandered somewhere you shouldn’t be. Or gotten yourself hurt in the process. The thought unsettled his soul, a hand coming up to rub his chest just over his soul. Since the incident, it had begun to throb much more frequently. But only ever when you were not around. How.. curious...

He shook his head again, glaring at his image reflected in the metal doors. There would be time for speculation later. Finding you was his top priority. Hopefully, you hadn’t gotten into any troubling situations in his absence.

* * *

 

The next ten or so minutes was filled with idiotic apologies from the meat bag before him as they explained their reason for stumbling into his little secret room. It was long, and they repeated a lot of bits which had him sighing in aggravation. But at least he finally had some company besides that dopey scientist for company down in this dump. You were giving him a lot of information, and he absorbed it as best he could, finally getting a word in edgewise when you stopped and eyed him awkwardly, wringing your hands.

 

“So let me get this straight. You were basically conned into being a test dummy and guinea pig to the former royal scientist, and you wandered off after they were done and got your dumb ass stuck down here in my room because you almost got caught snooping around like an idiot by Alphys? Am I getting all that right?”

 

“Well, I wasn’t _conned_ , per se. I agreed to help out!” came your disgruntled reply from where you sat on the floor. You had Flowey’s pot in your hand, your face annoyingly close for his comfort, but your warmth wasn’t a terrible thing in this refrigerator of a room.

“You had an old man use your money problems as incentive to manipulate you into willingly becoming his test subject so he could make a project out of you. Even the smiley trashbag said nothing about it and agreed to do his dirty work, from what you’ve told me about it.” Flowey grinned. “You were conned. Plain and simple. In an exceedingly average and not too creative way, I might add. If it were me, I would have gotten a lot more out of you. But hey. Not everyone can be an evil genius.”

 

Your face scrunched up, looking down at him with contempt. “You aren’t a very… sociable monster, are you?”

 

“Sociable? Is that what the kids are calling it now?” he scoffed.

 

“Okay, not sociable. Nice. You seem different than all the other monsters I’ve come across. Actually, if it doesn’t offend you by me saying it, you act a lot like a human would. In terms of thinking and stuff.”

 

Now that was rich. If you had only known how close you were to the actual truth of it. He could tell you, could keep you guessing. But it was too early in the meeting to start with the subtle manipulations. For now, it was all about gaining information. All about picking you apart and seeing where he could weasel in his own influence. You were an idiot. That was for sure. An easily manipulated one. And one who seemed to be a masochist, from what he could tell. Willingly accepting a role like guinea pig without much thought and even going so far as to hold him while acted like a typical sociopath to your face? He had dropped the usual bubbly persona of his to test his theory, but man. You had reacted almost immediately to his poking and prodding and demeaning behaviour. Either you were a masochist, or you were dead set on finding the humanity in everyone. Either way, you really were stupid.

 

“We’ll just call it human influence, for now.” he replied after a brief pause. “Since you’re here, why not tell me why you haven’t gone running back to that idiot scientist and his trashbag yet? Alph and her flashy friend are finally gone. You have more than enough reason to head back.”

 

You shrug your shoulders. “I was curious, I guess? I’ve never seen a talking flower monster before. Uh, actually, I don’t think I have a good answer to that, now that I think about it. I was bored, and started wandering around. Maybe sleep deprivation is making me a little more careless than usual?”

 

Oh man. If this was what he was working with, this was going to be fun. “Alright, then since you’re here, how about telling me more about your relationship to the bonehead family? You seem awfully cozy with them if you’re willing to work with them. Most humans would run from the sight of anyone from the skeleton family! Aren’t they scary to you or anything?”

 

“Sort of.” You set his pot back down on the floor, leaning back and stretching out your legs on either side of him. The single light from above cast a haunting light on your face. “The Gaster guy is kind of intimidating. He yelled at me a lot at first, and was the only one I thought was incredibly mean out of the two of them. But once I worked with them for the first week, I started to understand that he was just stressed. Angry about something, and taking it out on me. Not me directly. Heh, ah, he even gave me this small hedgehog that was lying around the office.” You went silent, a creeping pink color coming to your cheeks. “He isn’t all bad. Pretty cool sometimes.”

 

“Hell in a handbasket. You have a crush on an old man, don’t you?” Flowey stated in horror. The reaction was priceless. “You into wrinkly old farts who double as evil scientists? Kinda gross, kid.”

 

Your entire face was red, your hand waving around in a panic. “W-w-what? No! No, no no no. I don’t like the guy like that! Not at all! I just think he’s misunderstood, is all!”

 

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Uh huh. Sure. You know he’s like, forty in human terms, right? The guy is about as ancient as cave paintings. He could be your dad.”

 

“Augh! I already told you I don’t like the guy that way!”  
  
“Didn’t say you liked him that time. Just stated his age.” Flowey said smugly. “But enough of the Dadster. How about the trash bag? You close to that pile of crap?”

 

“Why do you call him that? Sounds like you have a personal vendetta against the guy.”

 

Whoo boy. If you only knew. “Look, I’m not going to get into too much detail here. I just want to know if you and him are close.”

 

Your mind seems to drift a bit, your gaze unfocused as you hum. “I guess we are. I don’t think I’m all that close to him, though. We’ve become decently good friends. But we’ve had our fair share of small fights. And one big one. He seems like he’s struggling with some pent up anger about something.”

 

“One big one? Is that where those marks on your wrists are from? It reeks of his lazy energy.” You cover your wrists quickly, tugging that oversized sweater down over the knuckles. “Can’t hide it from someone like me. I can sniff out aggression like that a mile away. Let me guess, he apologized to you, right? Promised to never do that again?”

 

The expression you wore told him everything he needed to know. The setup was there. Sans practically setting up his springboard _for_ him at this point. Good. Now all that was needed was a little push, and he would have the ammunition he needed. Getting back at that bag of garbage had always been at the top of his laundry list of things to do once they were on the surface. Since there were no resets up here, it meant that he couldn’t undo the damage he inflicted. The tantalizing promise of permanent revenge practically made his petals quiver. He’d get back at Sans yet, for all of the suffering he put him through. Once and for all.

Flowey was a changed monster since coming to the surface. Of this he was certain he could admit to. But there were just some things he couldn’t quite let go of Some memories that plagued him and left him unable to move on. Maybe this one act of vengeance could validate his feelings of being wronged, and set him free of this rage? Honestly, he wasn’t sure. But he’d do it anyway. Old habits die hard, wasn’t that how the saying went?

 

“I ain’t gunna tell you not to trust him. But I am going to warn you not to get too close to him.”

 

“Why’s that?” there was a subtle tremor in that tone.

 

“He’s dangerous, that’s why.One wrong move, one slip up, and you’re dust.”

 

“Sans isn’t dangerous! Besides that one fight, he hadn’t ever done anything to hurt me! I’ve been, like, the absolute worst to him since we first started working together, and he hasn’t bitched me out like Gaster has! Not once! He actually cared when I was afraid of the needles too and-”

 

“You think he actually _cares_ about you? That _either_ of them care about you?” Flowey sneered. “Humans and monsters don’t exactly have a cuddly history, you know. Those marks on your wrists prove it. We cannot ignore our primal instinct to distrust and destroy one another.”

 

“You’re wrong!” two hands slammed on either side of him, that face twisted with equal parts uncertainty and anger. “Monsters and humans _can_ coexist peacefully! Maybe it’s a slow transition now, but that doesn’t mean it’s an impossibility for us! So he hurt me once! Big deal! Humans hurt each other all the time! If anything, we’re more dangerous! I don’t see Sans or even Gaster going around killing people or raping people or burning down building or some shit. They haven’t ever given me a reason to distrust them.”

 

“Yet.” he added. Ah, how that took the wind out of your sails so easily. Looks like you had a history with those kinds of things, judging from that reaction. “You are a human. I’ll give you the fact that perhaps the royal scientist might find the novelty in keeping a human like you around. But trashbag? I doubt it. It’s only a matter of time before he figures out the kind of person you really are, and judges you for that. What kind of judgement he’ll pass on you, no one can say. But you better hope you are the perfect paragon of purity in his eyes. Or else you’ll be in for a bad time.”

 

The room was quiet, those hands on either side of him clenching and unclenching. The steady beap and hum of the adjacent machinery settling in the silence. The time on Alphys’ monster phone read a quarter past one. Past his usual lunch break back at Frisk’s. It was about time for him to head out. So much for a bit of music and some peace by himself. He’d have to settle for this instead. There was still time after lunch to relax by himself for a while before Toriel got on his case about family participation bullcrap.

 

“You _really_ think he cares about you? That smiley trashbag only enjoys your company because he really likes the idea of a normal life, and you gave it to him by being enough of an anomaly to land him back in a lab and out of that clinic duty. Tell you what, you wanna see how he really feels? Let him view your soul.” Brown eyes search his face, an unspoken question in those depths. “And I don’t mean looking at it in a jar or floating around your dumb head. I mean in his hands, in his face, letting him search it and view it with his own. See how he reacts to the _true_ you.”

 

“That’s… that’s a thing monsters can do? They can actually… can we see theirs that way too?”

 

“Hmmm. It’s possible while they’re viewing yours.You can peek into theirs as well. Granted, it won’t be nearly as clear or revealing, but you’ll get the idea of the kind of person they are from it. Fair warning though: Stay _away_ from that trash bag. Don’t let him know what you are. What you are capable of. He’s caused me more than my fair share of resets, back underground. He’s a hypocrite amongst other things. If he ever catches wind of any bad things you’ve done, he’ll burn you at the stake for it. So you better hope you’ve got a clear conscience on you.”

 

If a human could get any more paler than you did just then, he’d have thought Toriel to be dark-furred in comparison. It looked like his message came across clear enough. You reaction was a bit stronger than intended, but it would do. Now all he had to do was wait, and let the seed grow into a nice little plant of doubt and distrust and use those roots to choke the life out of that boney asshole. Peace or no peace. He’d get his justice. Even if it meant indirectly fucking with aspects of his social life in response. With a sigh, Flowey set the monster phone onto the floor, ready to leave this dump behind.

 

“Weeeeell, hate to cut our lovely chat short, but I have places to be and things to do. Hope you have fun out there being a guinea pig! Feel free to come sneak down here and talk to me anytime, human!”

 

“W-wait! Um, what’s,” you hesitate, fumbling with the edges of your sweater, “what’s your name?”

 

Took you long enough to ask.

 

“I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower! And judging from this interaction, I’m going to be your newest and most informative best friend! I’d ask for yours, but I’m sure I’ll learn it next time around. See ya!” With that, he popped back into the soil and out of existence. His magic was low, but it was just enough to get him back home for the day. No use wasting energy coming back here. There was food waiting for him at home and a significantly less dreary atmosphere to enjoy as well. Messing with a human today had been a nice little highlight. And he could feel his excitement build with the idea of having something new and interesting to do outside of the stupid errands Alphys gave him, and the regular monotony of life in the testing lab and at home watching Frisk. It was a new life on the surface after all. Why not christen it with a little vengeance?

* * *

 

Gaster found you first, walking around the back halls of A wing’s less occupied patient wing. You felt dazed, confused, and more than a little worried. Your hand hurt from where you had cut it on a sharp end of a protruding piece of metal on the wall in your attempt to make it back up the steps. It had bled a bit, but you kept the sleeve of your sweatshirt over it ignoring the stinging as you clambered up the rest of the steps. Dust clung to your sneakers and hair, and you could tell Gaster noticed, from the way he tossed you a questioning look. Indulging in his curiosity didn’t much appeal right now. So instead, you just nodded at him and asked if he needed something. He didn’t reply at first, scanning your face with mild concern. Something in your chest pulled at the same moment, you initial reaction one of fear as you turned your gaze to the floor. You asked him again what he needed, ready to walk off in the other direction if he remained silent any longer.

 

His mumbled reply was something concerning lunch. You couldn’t be sure if you were hungry or not. But anything to get you out of this place for right now would be an absolute blessing. You nod, about to walk past him and back into the main lobby when you feel something circle your wrist gently. Fear spikes in your gut, your heart in your throat, praying that he doesn’t see the marks there, praying he doesn’t question, doesn’t ask. Instead, you’re enveloped in his coat, the smell of his cologne, the subtle warmth radiating off of him. It’s so cathartic, the way he tucks you into his long coat like that, holding you close and sighing softly above you. Your muscles begin to relax, hands coming up and clinging to the front of his shirt. Everything was warm. It felt safe. There was a gentle humming in your bones when he hugged you closer, every part of your responding in kind to him in a way you couldn’t describe.

 

Gaster was saying something, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear. There were fingers in your hair, stroking at your scalp, soft and slow. The knot in your stomach loosened. The cold weight in your chest faded. You pull back to look up at his face, and were struck by the deeper than usual violet in those once grey eye lights of his. A thumb stroked at your cheekbone, concern still lingering in the tight line of his mouth and set of his jaw. He knew something was wrong. But you weren’t ready to tell him you had deliberately gone into a restricted area and stumbled upon an unknown monster in a dark basement while you hid from your own best friend. So instead, you put a hand over his, offering a tired smile and telling him you were alright. He didn’t believe you. Wasn’t convinced. Still held you tightly enough to prevent your escape if you decided to move away and avoid him.

Gods above, why did you feel so strange around him? When had this started? Your own soul seemed to hum to life around him, your body always yearning for that touch. This really wasn’t the time to be romantic. You were in a creepy hallway in a weird clinic hugging your employer and having a very real need and desire to feel those fangs biting at your lips and ne-

 

_OKAY. Time to go! Time to cut this off before it gets any weirder!_

 

You give a weak chuckle, looking down and gently attempting to separate yourself from him. But he holds fast, turning your face back up, his lips coming down on your forehead and sending your heartbeat into overdrive. When he pulled back he sighed, loosening his hold on you and nodding towards the direction of the lobby. You didn’t need anymore more than that, giving one last weak but more authentic smile as you walked ahead of him. The halls seemed to be more akin to a maze than you previously remembered them being, odd turns and angles and small hidden hallways that had you wondering at the efficiency of such a thing.

On the way back, Gaster had relayed the news that the report for the first round of tests was submitted, and just in time for your due payment tomorrow. You’d be able to pay rent for another month, at least. Food costs were another thing. But you would manage. The news should have made you happy. Relieved, really. Yet, for some reason, you felt disturbed at it. Would these people see your soul value as something they could use? What kinds of tests would the second round of experiments be? What was in store for you if they didn’t like what they saw? What if you couldn’t be placed because of it? Or, if you did get placed after the second round of tests, where would that put you? Would it be somewhere stable? Somewhere good? How much longer would you be working with these two? Would they miss you if you were gone?

Flowey’s words echoed in your head, a sadistic little whisper that made your blood run cold. ‘See how he reacts to the true you’. If you had to work with these two for another month, then what were the chances of either of them looking into your soul, searching it for all the little nuances that made it what it was? What were the chances of them seeing all of your… sins? All of the things you did to others, all the horrible things you did for the sake of comfort and stability? All of the things that were done to _you_? Oh, sweet fucking jesus, how that churned your stomach in a panic. There wasn’t any way that could be a thing. So far, they just observed it on a professional level. All you had to do was avoid them looking too far into it, right? Just pretend like everything's alright. Just make sure they didn’t get too nosey.

If they ever found out, they would… No, you wouldn’t let it happen. You cared a lot about these monsters. But there were just some things that were better left unsaid. The dread still lingered though, as you stepped back out into the sunny lobby, Sans standing there with a relieved grin on his face, bright sunbeams bouncing off that white skull of his. The two scientists began speaking to one another, while you hung back quietly and stewed in your own thoughts.

 

They meant a lot to you. Really, they did. But how much do you need to care about another being to reveal the darkest aspects of your being to in confidence? How strong could a relationship or bond be, if you weren't willing to let them know the kind of monster you could really turn into when you were desperate enough? At what point do you reveal secrets you wouldn’t even repeat to yourself in the empty darkness of your own room?

 

You had no answers for that. Even if you did, you were certain it wouldn't be a definitive one anyway. No one had a manual for these kinds of things. You'd have to wait and see if it ever happened. If they ever found out. Whether or not they'd still accept you for it. You gulp nervously, glancing at your dirty boots. Gods, you hoped they would still accept you. You didn't want to be left all alone again, wandering in your regrets and mistakes like so many years before coming here. If second chances were really a thing, you prayed it would be different this time around. Hoped with all of your hear that it would be. Your already too-wounded heart wouldn't be able to handle another serious fallout if you were abandoned again. Shaking the thought from your head you follow the two of them back to the office, offering up a silent prayer to whatever was listening that you could remain in their good graces so you could keep the new family you had come to care about so deeply, hoping to remain a part of their lives for as long as they would have you.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a normal and relaxed chapter this time around that has a small key point to the story! Enter, Flowey the manipulative Flower! Wonder what this little guy has in store for our small scientist assistant here? 
> 
> I've decided that I think it would be much more fun if you guys gave me some suggestions as to what you'd like to see in this story as it progresses! Let me know what you want, would like to see, or even any requests you might have in the comments! Remember, I am always in the comments! I reply to LITERALLY EVERYTHING. 
> 
> That being said, hope you all are having a wonderful weekend! Be sure to get your daily dose of snacks and wistful thinking! *-whirls around in uncertain circles-*


	11. A Lesson in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey is professor material. 
> 
> Also, this one is a little long. Whew. Have fun out there, guys!

It was well past noon, and Gaster hadn’t seen you come through those doors in nearly four and a half hours. Really, he should have anticipated as much from your odd behaviour yesterday after he found you wandering the halls in a daze. Still, a part of him felt deeply anxious over the fact that you had not even bothered to answer your phone when Sans attempted to call. Not even when _he_ made an attempt to reach out shortly afterwards. He thought of taking a short visit to your apartment, to check on you. See if you were alive or just sleeping off the exhaustion from yesterday. But work was a tricky thing to avoid or make excuses for. Especially given the fact that he was the head scientist in the building that nearly everyone answered to. If he wanted to get out of here without too much fuss, he would need a viable stand-in, someone that everyone would be agreeable enough towards to answer their questions. Or to direct them. Since the only other person was his lazy brother Sans, he knew that idea was a no-go. Universe be damned, if he didn’t figure something out soon, you would plague his thoughts for the remainder of his work hours until he was able to leave through those doors well after night had fallen.

 

He sat grumbling at his desk in deep thought. Not even registering the door opening and a soft knock coming from the doorway. He was too caught up in his mind, pen tapping away hastily on the stack of notes he had produced from within his desk in an attempt to preoccupy him for the next few hours. Features set in a deepening scowl the longer he allowed himself to dwell on his worries. Even Sans began to worry just by looking at him. He had never seen his brother so distracted from his own work like this. Let alone a mumbling mess over it. So he tried again, this time knocking on the glass window next to the door. The sound was louder and more jarring, bones clacking against the surface three times to rouse the pondering skeleton.

 

Gaster finally looked up, jumping slightly in surprise. “Ah. Sans. What is it? Did you hear back from _____ yet?”

 

“Nah, not yet bro. You look like you could use a break though.” Gaster scoffed at that. He hadn’t even begun on his notes yet. The only break he needed was one away from his thoughts. “Look, i know you’re worried about them. But I’m sure they’re just fine. Undyne got them back home yesterday after work. They probably collapsed on their couch from all the lack of sleep. Just let them sleep in. I’m sure they’ll get back to us whenever they get the chance. Playing hookey from work just once won’t kill them. Or you.” he added after a brief pause.

 

That last bit had him scowling again. He wasn’t being unreasonable in his concerns. At least, he didn’t think so. Being worried about someone you cared about was normal. Average behaviour on a day to day basis, really. Why would Sans think him to be stressed about you not calling back? Or leaving a message? Or even coming in to see him?

_Huh? No, wait. That’s not right. Not to see me. To come into work. Yes. Of course. That is what I meant to say. Honestly, where is my head going today?_

 

“You doin’ alright there, doc? You had a funny look on your face there for a sec.” Sans strode over to his desk, placing a hand on the edge of it, leaning down with a smirk. “Not still thinking too hard about them, are ya?”

Gaster stood from his seat, a little too quickly. He didn’t know why, and couldn’t register the feeling in his chest that accompanied the action. His brother had asked something small and simple. “No. I am not. I was simply thinking about… the report.”

 

“The _report_?” Sans parroted, his tone implying he didn’t believe it for a second.

 

“Yes. I was wondering why the head of HMRD did not get back to us today. Normally they are quite punctual about these sorts of tests.” _Come on Gaster, sell it. Make him believe it_. “If we do not get word back soon, we will have to be back on clinic duty, sorting souls, without any clear direction of where to go from here.”

 

That gave Sans pause. Gaster did have a point there. If he couldn’t find decent stuff to do to keep him busy here with this new side project, he’d be thrown back into clinic duty. That soul-sucking job of sorting humans like sheep and regretting the memories that would go with them later as he sat at Grillby’s. He knew it, and so did Gaster. It proved to be a slightly bigger problem that he swore quietly at under his breath for not thinking about sooner.

“You’re right.” he said slowly. “I guess I’ll go check through the emails one more time. Have the secretary out front give the head a call real quick to confirm that they got the documents. I’ll send an email myself, just to be certain that they know to check it.”

Humor be damned at this point. There was bigger fish to fry right now. You’d get back to them eventually. Nothing much to do right now other than keep the place from falling to pieces around them while you napped it off at your place.

 

Gaster nodded his approval, letting go of a small breath he didn’t realize he held. “Good thinking. I’ll try to figure out where to go next from here. If they’re reviewing the larger data, we can keep doing small cognitive tests on them in the meantime. Give _____ an appointment with our psychologist on the upper floor, get them the mental wellness clearance beforehand. Stay ahead of the curve.”

His hands were behind his back as he strode towards the window, drawing open the dusty blinds with a loud clatter. These old things be damned. Why didn’t they ever renovate the higher offices when they should? He was fairly certain these horrendous things were about as old as Asgore’s throne, from the discoloration on them. Too much dust floated into his sockets at the movement, and he began scrubbing at them with a growl. _Better make a side-note to get a duster or vacuum in here at some point. Keep this place from being buried in this infernal dusty crap._

 

Sans nodded with a grunt of acknowledgement, turning around to head back out into the hall. “Here’s to hoping we can stay away from sorting duty for another month at best before losing our heads to the monotony. Amiright, doc?” No answer. He turned back around and saw his brother pressed to the glass, on hand bracing on the sill as he pushed his cheek against the pane, eyes wide and curious. “Uuuuuuuh, doc??”

 

But he wasn’t listening. Completely forgetting the smaller skeleton’s presence in favor of the figure he saw disappear behind a large side door on the south entrance of the building just below. Grossly oversized sweater over denim overalls, and combat boots. No other human would dress so ridiculously. No other human that worked here had a head of hair that unruly on any given day. No, it really couldn’t be anyone else. But then that begs the question:

 

Just what were you doing sneaking into the side entrance, instead of coming through the front door? And why hadn’t you called or messaged him to let him know you were on your way? What was so important that you couldn’t even find the time to answer your phone?

 

His body moved of its own accord, moving across the room in a hurry, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair and brushing past Sans without a word. Polished shoes clicked on the floor as he reviewed the map of the building in his mind. Many nurses and even quite a few patients attempted to grab his attention as he stalked by. But he ignored them. His mind already found what area you would come out in. And he was not about to let you get away with ignoring him like this. Not if he could help it.

 

* * *

 

The alleyway was partially hidden by the shade of the building you were leaning against, the soft, cloudy afternoon light illuminating the handle of a metal pail peeking out from underneath an abandoned trash bag near the end of the lot. It wasn’t as cold as it had been the day before. Still cold enough to garner a sweater, of course. But not enough to get you to wear your dirty pair of jeans twice in a week. The denim overall you sported was just clean and comfortable enough to be a viable option with the slightly warmer weather. Still, your legs were cold as fuck out here. And eating this tuna sandwich outside in a shady alley sort of made you look like a beggar. Not that you were complaining. If you got an extra buck or two from some good Samaritan out there, then maybe you could sneak into the nicer offices on the first floor and use the loaded vending machine in their break room. Fuck yeah, Cheetos and candy bars. Eh, but for now, this would have to do.

You crack the top of your soda, taking a small sip of the cold beverage. Having lunch out here in the cold was kind of a stupid idea. But hunger didn’t have an aesthetic preference, and you were doing your damnest to avoid detection right now. So, shady, dirty alley it was. Your phone buzzed once more in the front pocket of your overalls, another dinging notification of a missed call ringing out through the area. It echoed briefly before dissipating altogether. That had to have been the fifth one in under an hour. And the seventh over the course of three. There wasn’t any question about who it was from. Sans and the doc were probably pretty fumed at the fact that you didn’t show up this morning for work. There wasn’t anything you could have told them either. No viable excuse for the fact that you were deliberately playing hooky to avoid responsibility due to your own anxieties. What that Flowey character had told you yesterday had you on edge.

If Sans and Doc really _could_ see into your soul in a more… sensitive way, then that meant that all of your dirty laundry would be aired before the people you cared about the most. No one could know the shit you had done. No one could know about all the crap that happened before this. You didn’t want to be held accountable for things that happened in the past. No, not held accountable. That was the wrong phrasing. You took another bite of your sandwich, deep in thought.

 

_I don’t want to be defined by them. My mistakes, I mean. I want them to like me for who I am now, not for who I was then. That’s all. I fucked up. And really, who doesn’t? We’re human. Doing something bad doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you wrong. Wrong, but still human._

 

You take another tentative sip of the fizzy liquid, sighing through your nose after a loud belch. If there was any way to solve this dilemma, or figure out a way of skirting around it, that creepy flower monster should know about it. You’ll admit, he kind of unnerves you. It seemed like something dangerous was lurking just beneath the surface. Taunting you. Watching you. A lot like the feeling you get when you know there is a shark in the water where you’re swimming. You can see through the surface of the water, but you can’t spot the shark. You just know it’s there. Can feel it in your bones. Flowey gave off that vibe. And it unnerved the heck out of you in a way you couldn’t deny. He wasn’t to be trusted. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t probe hit tiny, petaled brain for some information to use in your favor in case if things got hairy in the near future.

 

You swallow the last bite of your sandwich, chugging whatever you could from the can, and dumping the rest onto a crack in the concrete at your feet, tossing the can into the adjacent dumpster. A quick check on your phone confirmed your assumptions about who was calling and messaging you incessantly for the past couple of hours.

 

 **_Doc: 4 missed calls_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Doc: 6 messages (sensitive information hidden)_ **

 

**_Bonez: 3 missed calls_ **

**_Bonez: 2 messages (sensitive information hidden)_ **

 

You didn’t bother to look through them, just snickered at your new nicknames for them on your phone, followed by the images you selected for them and took a peek at the time. Good, it was right around the same time you had wandered down to the lower levels yesterday. You couldn’t be sure if Flowey kept a schedule, or even if Alphys would be down there again. But it couldn’t hurt to check, right? Better to attempt to find some answers now, instead of hiding away at your place, waiting for them to sic Undyne on you for ignoring your phone for too long.  

_Just sneak in, make sure no one sees you, avoid detection by a small scaley scientist, Find Flowey, ask some questions, and then get the hell out of dodge. Okay. Good, solid, decent plan._

You pat the flashlight in your sweater pocket and nod to yourself. It was now or never. No time to dilly dally in this alley. _Heh, that rymed!_ If you lost out on your chance now, you would have wasted a golden opportunity!

With thunder in your chest and adrenaline slowly waking in your veins, you walk out of the cover of the shade and cover of the alley and march towards the southern entrance to the clinic. But not before carefully scanning the area for any straggling nurses or doctors on a smoke break. You yank on the metal door handle, warm from the sunlight, and slip in as quietly as you possibly could. This was it! You had a limited amount of time to make this work! Mission: Start!

 

* * *

 

“I-I don’t know, Undyne. I think there might actually be something wrong with those two.” Alphys cleaned her glasses on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, sighing unhappily.

 

She was sitting across from her aquatic girlfriend in a local cafe, sipping some bubble tea. They didn’t have dates often, but when they did, they liked to be sure that no one would disturb them. Making sure to shut off their cells in advance and make time for one another. Sometimes Alphys struggled with that, but she did what she could for Undyne. She loved her to bits and pieces, after all!

 

“What do you mean by that?” Undyne asked, looking rather dashing in her leather jacket and tight fitting jeans. A real beauty among monsters, she was. She had a cup of coffee in her hands, taking small bit of a flavored croissant next to her.

 

“I’m just, well. I’m worried that whatever effects that human soul had on you and Papyrus and Sans that one time you called me from _____’s house might be something serious. You said even Papyrus got upset?” she pushed her glasses back on her face with a sigh. It wasn’t often she felt nervous around Undyne. Even her stuttering seemed to stop whenever it was just the two of them. But the telltale feeling of being tongue tied started to resurface with the newfound worry bubbling in her gut.

 

Undyne thought for a moment, fins on the side of her face twitching briefly in thought. “Huh. Yeah. The big guy isn’t normally so high strung about stuff. In fact, I think that was only the second time I’ve seen him with that kind of look on his face. It was like, something made us all really, really mad. Desperate, even. I just felt like I needed to stop _____. By any means necessary. From doing what, I didn’t know. Just that I needed to fight with everything I had.”

 

“Perhaps the others felt that to?” she queried. “Maybe that was the power of _____’s soul? Or a side effect of some sort?”

 

“I mean, I dunno. You could be right, babe. But there’s no way to know for sure. _____ was pretty upset that day over something. I’ve never had them shout at me like that before.”

 

“I know, and I’m sorry, sweetie.” a yellow claw patted at her arm soothingly. “I just want to be sure that whatever is going on with them, we can help if it gets to be too much or too dangerous. We don’t yet know what they are capable of or what they can do. And from the sound of it, whatever unique power their soul has, it could be a highly unstable one.”

 

There was silence between them for a moment. The gentle sounds of pop music filtering through the speakers above them. There was hardly anyone in the cafe at this time, the lunch rush having passed close to an hour ago. It was a good time to sit and talk. To relax and figure out a way of going about things with their close friend. Granted, this wasn’t an easy topic to broach, given the fact that Alphys had to mix work with personal life stuff. But she had to do it if she wanted to assuage her own worries and attempt to prove her hypothesis incorrect.  

_B-by Asgore’s beard, I really, really do hope I’m wrong. I don’t know if I can help them if their soul is what I think it to be._

 

She gulped nervously at that, setting down her tea with a small clatter and folding her claws together in her lap. If this human Tenacity soul was a neurotic branching version of Determination, it meant that it could only cause more harm than good. Creatures only ever felt tenacity when they were threatened. Fight or flight instincts among other natural ones that made up the core functions of the mind and body were ruled by it. But given the fact that they were monsters, their body being made up of dust and magic, the effects of tenacity on them were an anomaly she didn’t have answers to. She prayed it wasn’t something negative. That perhaps it could be something useful, even, given enough research and creative output. But based on what Undyne had told her and what she witnessed in her own lab, it was starting to look pretty bad.

The odds were mostly not stacking up in _____’s favor. Being a negative strain of a soul power meant that the neuroticism of said soul could create cataclysmic consequences if not properly quarantined and stabilized. The problem here was that tenacity could _not_ be stabilized. It wasn’t something easily fixed, like Avarice being reformed into Kindness with enough effort and monster magic manipulation. In worse case scenarios, forcing the unstable soul to bond with another opposing soul power stabilized it to the point of being benign. Tenacity, though, was a natural aspect of human functioning. Tenacity as a soul value was not just new, it was practically unheard of. How could it work? How could it be used? What was its effect on those around it? If only she had the means of figuring it out… of knowing just how to-

 

“Alph, babe? You okay? Your scales are goin’ kinda pale there.” A warm hand was on her face, familiar and kind. Undyne was staring hard at her. Concern in every part of her expression as she regarded Alphy’s own furrowed brow. “What’s wrong?”

 

“O-oh!” Alphys blushed, waving her hands awkwardly in front of her. “I-it’s nothing! I was worried that maybe I might have accidentally forgotten a bolt on Mettaton’s new upgrade body! I-if it falls apart on stage, I could get in a whole lot of trouble!” Fibbing at this point was more habit, than talent. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t damn good at it.

 

Her fishy girlfriend regarded her suspiciously for a few beats, never taking her hand off her face. Until, with a huff, she let go, leaning back and taking another sip of her drink. “I know that isn’t the reason. But I won’t press it. Whatever it is about _____’s soul that has you concerned, I’m sure it’s something we can work through, right? You’re the best scientist around, after all.” the smile on her face was small and uncertain.

 

Stars, did Alphys feel miserable looking at it. She knew there was little she had control over in this. If it did turn out that this soul was of a negative strain, then there was almost no solution in sight. The only band-aid being permanent quarantine until a solution could be figured out. This was the fate of their closest, best friend here. Never before had the prospect of a neurotic soul sent her own into such a state of dubious anxiety.   
Sitting there, with the love of her life giving such a pained expression, knowing that for once, even Undyne herself wasn’t strong enough to face a possible outcome of the future….

 

It said a lot about the situation they were in. Even more so about their options in regards to it. Alphys could only hope that when the time for revelation would come, she would have a plan. One that would benefit everyone in the end. She refused to lose a friend to all of this. Someone as close as family who put up with her awkward self, and watched hours of anime on lonely nights with her when Undyne was away. She clenched her claws, determined. One way or another, she would find a way. She had to.

 

She looked Undyne in the eye, forcing her most confident smile. “Of course. No matter what happens, I’m not about to let _____ down. Not them, and not you.” The look of relief she got in response spiked a heavy feeling of guilt and doubt in her.

 

Alphys wouldn’t give up. Just one more look through her findings. Just one more review. She was sure a plan of attack could be made. She just had to find it.

 

* * *

 

“So let me get this straight,” he sighed, a leaf place to the side of his forehead, exasperated, “you played hooky from work, then snuck _into your workplace_ just so you could come down here and ask me stupid questions without anyone coming around to find you?”

 

You nodded from your spot on the floor, a determined expression set on your face. You knelt in front of him, hands on your thighs. Getting down here proved to be an easy feat, since hardly anyone ever bothered to wander down the section of the building that had broken stairs. It appeared to work out in your favor. But judging from the look the small flower monster was giving you, perhaps you would have done well to ask if he even wanted to talk to you in the first place. You sort of just assumed he would cooperate. Guess assumptions don’t go very far when considering a stranger you had only spoken to once before. He literally had no reason to speak to you or answer your questions whatsoever. And he made a point of telling you so.

 

“You realize you’re a complete freaking stranger to me, right, idiot? We aren’t even that close, and you’re already coming back into my space and trying to bug me about crap you have no business knowing. Probably irrelevant crap too. What are ya, a dependent, lonely little meatbag in need of company and someone to talk to?” Okay, wow. That tone of voice was definitely hurtful. Maybe you had that one coming. “If you wanted a soft-hearted moron, you could have spoken to any one of the dumb goat monsters walking around the place. They’re known for being about as stupid and soft as it gets.”

 

His petals shook and bobbed as he made wide, exaggerative gestures of his displeasure. It was obvious you weren’t going to get any conclusive answers from him. Not without some plan to get him to talk. But how would you do that? What usually worked in situations like this? Empathy, perhaps? No, that wouldn’t work. He didn’t look like the empathetic type. Perhaps flattery, then.

“I-I know!” you began, making yourself seem as small as you possibly could by hunching your shoulders. “It’s just that… well, I can’t talk to Sans or the Doc about this. I didn’t think they’d have any idea on how to answer me. But you seemed like you knew a lot more about souls.” he gave you a look. “Or at least, the information I thought was important about souls.” You tag on, hopeful.

 

“I know what you’re trying to pull here, meatbag. And it ain’t workin’.” you deflated. It was worth a shot. “However, I’m not against sharing a little information if you’re willing to help me out in return.”

 

“Huh?” help him out? How? “What kind of help?” You ask cautiously.

 

Flowey smirked, the edges of his mouth nearly touching those bright, golden petals of his. “Gimme Sans’ phone number. My old lady won’t give me access to her phone to steal it. I just need his number, and I’ll permit you to ask two questions. No lumping two together, no take-backs. Just two.”

 

That didn’t sound like such a big thing. Still, if someone was keeping the short skeleton’s phone number from him, then it had to be bad. Maybe harassment issues? This monster certainly did seem the type to cause trouble without remorse. You imagined a haggard Sans, annoyed and put out by weird messages or calls. It certainly didn’t sit well with your conscience, thinking about it. You bit the inside of your lip, jittering your right foot. You _really_ wanted answers. But at the same time, you didn’t want to risk the privacy of someone you knew.

 

“Ah, is there anything _else_ you want instead?” the way that mouth of his curled into a sneer had your chest feeling a little heavy and cold. Shit, for a flower, he could be really scary. _Think fast, _____! What’s a good compromise! Come on, you’re good at this stuff! Offer an alternative!_ “Okay,” you breathe, “How about I ask you _one_ question, in exchange for something _you_ want to know about Sans? I don’t know your fixation on him, but if it means I can get something out of this to help me, then I’m down for it.”

 

Flowey seemed to contemplate this, still annoyed, but moving his leaves in the mock translation of a shrug after a few seconds of consideration. “Wait here.” he said, disappearing into the potted soil.

 

Man, if that wasn’t the flower equivalent of teleportation, you didn’t know what was. Part of you, (a very large part of you), wondered where he went, and how he made that happen. Were there tunnels underneath the floor that lead him around the place? Did he dig through the ground himself if he needed to get somewhere new? Or did it work just like Sans’ power? You made a point to ask later on, if you ever got close enough to Flowey to ask. Wasting a valuable question on something as stupid as that would render this entire trip a waste of time.

You shuffle in place,moving to sit on your rear since your legs were starting to fall asleep. The weird slate grey tile was warm to the touch, which you assumed meant the floors down here were heated. Were they this warm last time? Did you just not notice? It was nice, either way. You contemplated taking off your boots, but Flowey popped back into existence before you could go through with it, holding up a very small cell in his leaves.

 

“Okay, so here’s the deal. You give me Papyrus’ number, and I’ll tell you what I know about any topic of your choosing. Don't’ make it a stupid one, or I’ll ditch you down here in this creepy basement alone and avoid you everytime you walk through that door. Capiche?”

 

Ever the friendly one, this guy. Oh, but wait. What if he actually _did_ ditch you once you gave him Pap’s number? You didn’t see him causing any real harm with that dense and warmly friendly fella. Giving him his number didn’t seem as much of a detriment. You needed to be sure you would get your end of the bargain though. Better play the cards right, here!

 

“I’ll agree to give you his number, if you answer my question first.” Flowey scowled at you. “I don’t know if you’ll actually leave once I give it to you. Since you can teleport, and all. And since I can’t, given the fact that I’m human, and you can stop me before I leave, or hound me until I do give you your end of the bargain, it’s a safer bet overall if you give me my answers first.”

 

The way those beady black eyes of his flashed a brief red made you want to take that back immediately. The fear of getting hurt by this monster was suddenly very real, and very much eye opening, given the fact that you were in a secluded room with him underground. With literally no one out there knowing where in the fuck you were. You expected him to hurt you for that, instead, you just got a snide little smirk as he set the cell down in his little pot.

 

“Looks like you’re a little smarter than I originally gave you credit for. Heh. Alright, meat bag. I’ll play by your rules. What’s on your mind that you need to probe my head for answers about?”  
  
You inhale sharply, feeling a little dizzy. Had you forgotten to breathe that entire time? Jesus fucking christ you shouldn’t have come down here. “U-uh. Right. So, I wanted to know more about what you told me yesterday. About how monsters could see into the souls of humans?”

 

“Yeah, what about it?”

 

“Can they see everything in there? Like, memories and stuff? Replay those events or figure out what you think or if you’re… uh…” you hesitate.

 

“If you’re keeping any secrets, right?” he finishes for you.

 

“Yeah. Stuff like that. Can they actually see all that if they look inside the soul? And if they can, is there any way to detect them doing that? I don’t want my privacy invaded. I’d feel uncomfortable knowing someone can see all of my most embarrassing moments from high school in there, and view it without my consent. Or, something like that.”

 

“So you wanna find a way of hiding your dark secrets from prying eyes? Is that what I’m getting here?” the knowing smirk on his face was unmistakable. He cut through your crap act without so much as a second thought.

 

“What, no. I-”

 

“Best to keep your lies to a minimum, pal. I can sniff out a dark secret from a mile away. And you practically reek of them. If keeping everyone blind to your dirty secrets is what you’re after, the most I can tell you is to never let them get close enough to witness the true culmination of your being. Keep them at arm's length, and don’t share any personal information that would allow them to manipulate that in their favor. Plain and simple.”

 

“Wait, hold on. How the heck am I supposed to manage that when they’re already close to me? I just need an easy way of keeping my privacy. This feels like it might be a ten step plan that involves me being a dick to drive everyone away or something.”

 

“Tch. Do you always jump to conclusions like that, or am I just that special?” he scoffed. “Look, I ain’t sayin’ it’s unwise to remain close to them. But I will say that if they get any closer, you might not be able to keep those secrets under lock and key. Well, at least not if you’re gunna continue hanging out with the bone bros. Scaly nerd chick and her weird fishy swamp monster shouldn’t be an issue. They can’t see any of your memories in playback unless you allow it. And you have to actually take your own soul out and consent to it. Otherwise, you can keep those morons around as long as your pathetic little human heart needs.” Flowey crossed his leaves, tilting his head to one side, the single overhead light playing off the shadows his petals cast to give him a slightly menacing look.

 

“Can you elaborate on that? I don’t think I understand what you’re getting at there. So Alphys and Undyne are fine, and aren’t capable of seeing my memories, but Sans and the Doc can? How does that work?” You felt like you should be taking something away from this. Flowey was giving you what you wanted, after all. So then… why did it feel like you weren’t getting anything at all from it???  He wasn’t making much sense and something told you that there was probably a bit of information he was purposely hiding as he spoke. There was a hanging sense of anticipation between the two of you, the stuffy air of the closed off room only serving to muddle your senses the longer you tried to make sense of just what this little petal-head was getting at.

 

“Because those two idiots haven’t soul-bonded yet. Duh. Alphys and her swamp girlfriend bonded a while back. So they can only view each other's memories and thoughts and feelings. So, are we done here, now?”

 

He moved as if to pick up the phone, eyeing you briefly from the corner of his eye. Fucking, damn it! You _knew_ he was trying to bait you into asking him about it! You could just _feel_ it. Whatever information he wanted to give was sure to put you in a spot. Or at least, put you in enough of a spot to satisfy whatever sick plan he had going in his head. You worked the muscles of your jaw wordlessly, failing to hide the torn look lingering on it. Flowey continued to feign innocence, humming to himself now as he held his small phone and scrolled through it. The tiny clicking noises of the keypad wore on the small bit of self-control you had left. Fuck it. You needed answers. No matter what the cost may be.

 

“...Sans told me about soul-bonding once. But only in passing. If this is still information you’re willing to give on the same topic, can you tell me what it actually is? Go in depth about it. Uh, how you do it or whatever. Show me how to avoid it.” Your words came out stiff, your tone strained and awkward.

 

“Sooo glad you asked, meatbag. Sit back. Because this might take a bit. It’s time for a little lesson in monster love.” the laugh he gave afterwards should not have made you feel as sick as it did. This little flower was a demon. You swore it in the way those small teeth glistened in the light.

 

_Cripes. What did I just get myself into?_

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t find you. How on earth had you escaped his notice? It couldn’t have been more than a minute when he first came down to the ground floor in search of you! And yet you were nowhere in sight. Gaster even went so far as to inquire at the reception desk, receiving nothing more than a meek apology and a headshake at his questioning. Sans had passed him in the halls, looking mildly concerned, but leaving him be for now. He was certain his brother would inquire later on about what he saw. He did not have the time to answer any questions, did not have the time to indulge in small talk or wandering. He needed a clear and concise route to find you. But where could he start? Where had you gone? If you came through the southern entrance, and escaped even the receptionists notice, then it probably meant you hadn’t come through here.

 

The scowl he wore began to hurt his face with how deeply it was set in his skull. This shouldn’t be bothering him so much. His mind should not be so errantly preoccupied with the whereabouts of some childish human being. When had his mind come this undone, his work ethic and reputation practically tarnished by this idiocy! No, Gaster had so much more he should be doing. So much more that needed his attention. Calculations and evaluations and setting up for next month’s quota for sorted human souls.   
The halls were a blur of white in his vision, no details registering as he stomped through them quickly. He was the ever infamous former royal scientist, Dr. Wing Ding Aster. Cold and analytical, his work his main priority in life. He invented the core! Put together the future project of reusable and safe energy systems for all life on this planet! His work was practically renowned throughout the globe! He was- he was-!

 

He was being undone by the memory of a stuffed animal caressing soft cheeks, delighted eyes gazing up at him. Soft hair in his hands, between his fingers, a crown of unruly tresses atop that idiotic skull. Tears and loneliness reflecting off a dirty tiled floor in a food establishment. The burning of a midnight kiss, unexpected in the neon lights of downtown. The memory of a plain, ordinary and highly common human being, their voice raking at the inside of his skull and sending a hollow need throughout his bones. An utterly unassuming drug that dragged him back again and again the longer he was without it.

 

Everything was being undone. He could feel himself unraveling the longer they played through his mind. The longer he allowed himself to linger upon them. His chest hummed, a throbbing pain there urging him forward as he whipped his head around, quickly scanning the vacant halls. Faces of humans and monsters littering the corners, poking out of the rooms. Yet those halls were still as good as empty to his foggy mind. You weren’t there. He needed to find you. Needed to see you. Needed…. Needed? Yes! Needed. It sang throughout his soul, tugging him, pulling him down hall after hall. Gaster blindly followed, never once stopping to question his own whereabouts. It hurt more than he could bear, having you away for this long. But why?

 

Stars and galaxies above, just what was happening to him?

* * *

 

“There’s a saying amongst monsters, a saying that seems to be the equivalent to what you humans use. Only we use it better, since it is more literal. We call it, ‘soul-mates’.” Flowey had you move him towards the back end of the room he frequented, and was now pointing at a whiteboard, blue marker in hand. You had set up the flashlight in your pocket, pointing it at the ceiling in the darkened corner, so you could see what he wrote.

 

“That’s kind of ironic.” you nod.

 

“Hush. I’m tryin’ to do a lesson here, idiot.” you huff, but allow him to continue without protest. “Now, two life energies, (i.e., souls), that directly complement one another and even out the shortcomings and flaws of the other is what we call the ideal match. Soul mates does not translate to, ‘we were always meant to be’, like how all your stupid human movies depict it to be.” he drew a wistful looking face with hearts in the eyes, and crossed it out viciously with his marker. “No. It means monsters can always tell who a perfect fit will be for them, and won’t push it if the soul’s are incompatible, no matter how much they may like one another. We know to keep it platonic, so as to refrain from virulent or unhealthy soul-bonding. Unlike you messy, idiotic humans.”

 

Flowey sneered as he drew a suspiciously _you_ -looking face and crossed that out too, writing ‘idiot’ just above it. You get that this was supposed to be a lesson. But he was kinda laying the dislike here a little thick, wasn’t he? Oh whatever. He looked to be enjoying himself. If he had enough fun with this, maybe he’d even reveal a little more than intended. Whatever got you what you needed to know. You sigh, leaning your elbows on your knees.

 

“Soul-bonding is the equivalent of eternal marriage between monsters. Unlike humans, we mate for life. Meaning no fooling around with other monsters, and no bonding with anyone else. Both souls are locked together for as long as they live. This can only be undone if one of the souls perishes. Then the soul left without them will be allowed to bond a second time. Granted, it won’t be as strong as the last one, but it is still a possibility.” His tone took on a professional tone as he explained it to you, drawing out hearts and writing notes down here and there. It was quite surprising, how much he knew. You briefly wondered if all monsters were taught this at a young age in school or something, like human children and mandatory health classes.   
“There is actually an entire process to soul-bonding as well. And since I’m in a good mood, I’ll run through the stages briefly for you, this way your tiny human brain can pick up on it if you ever think someone is attempting a bond with you.” he snorted. “Not that anyone ever would. Monsters wouldn’t sink that low.” You were about to point out the various human-monster marriages to him, but he quickly shushed you.

Flowey wiped the board with an eraser, long vines popping up out of the soil to assist him. Sheesh, that was kind of unnerving. Wonder if he’s ever done any freaky stuff with those? Like knock on someone’s window at night and pretend to be tree branches, only to scare the living shit out of some poor sod in his own home? You shook your head. This was not the time for that. Pay attention, _____! This was important information!

“Stage one begins in an odd place. Because contrary to popular belief, monsters are actually not these innocent little sugar buns that they are depicted to be. Even we have our own violent tendencies, when the mood and circumstances are right.” Flowey began to write on the board again, placing bullet points as he went. “Stage one is ‘Aggression’. It’s a bit like a stake-out. Sitting around or near the object of interest and watching them. If they spend a lot of time around one another, it can come around in the form of arguments, or tension between them. The aggression is due to heightened levels of- hey, kid, you listening to me?”

 

You were staring at the bulb in the ceiling over by the center of the room, admiring the way the dust danced in the beams. Thinking of magical fairies and soft music on foreign objects to go along with the mood of the moment. You hadn’t even realized you were dazing out, despite the fact that this was pretty important stuff to be learning. Flowey looked less than pleased, bits of red coloring his face in anger.

 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I think I dazed out there. Didn’t get much sleep.” you lied.

 

“Pay attention or I’ll ditch you in this room. Don’t waste my time.” he said severely.

 

“Alright, alright. Understood.” you hold up your hands in a placating motion.

 

He snorted, but continued. “Aggression is a way to remain cautious of the actions of the other soul. You keep an eye on them, test the waters until you can be sure this is the soul that you think you need to balance yours.” the marker squeaked as he wrote down the second point. “In the second stage, physical contact occurs. Monsters read each other's moods this way. No thoughts or anything. This contact fosters intimacy the more frequently it happens. Which brings us to stage three, which is the constant desire to have physical contact. They will seek to touch or hold the object of their interest any chance they get. Monsters are made of magic, if you recall.”

 

“Ah, Sans told me something about that too. Something about actions meaning a lot more to monsters since you’re basically a living being of emotion and magic. Or, uh, something like that. So the magic reacts to the intent of the contact, rather than the contact itself.”

 

“Hey, you wanna get up here and teach, or are you gunna let me finish, meat bag?”

 

“Sorry. Just wanted to add on what I already knew.” you mumble.

 

“Yeah well I don’t recall asking you. So shut it.” he growled. “Interrupt me again, and you’re on your own.” your butt was starting to fall asleep. How long was this going to take? “The last stage of soul-bonding is the absolute acceptance from both souls to take the final step and tie it off. But that was a no-brainer. When bonded, they share every past memory, experience, emotion, thought and trauma with one another. You essentially live their lives up until that point. You don’t just bond. You become the other. You are essentially one being from that moment forward. If you are a boss monster, however, you share powers and special skills with your mate. You wield fire? They wield fire. They teleport? Now you teleport. Even aspects of your soul value is shared with them. You will be kinder, or braver, or more determined depending.” He finally set down the marker with a loud clatter. “There. Does that answer your burning question?”

 

You thought for a moment, glad the lecture was over, but still needing a small bit more clarity on something before you could let it go altogether. “What happens if the two don’t bond?”

 

He sighs, crossing his leaves. “If the two don’t bond after the second to last step, then it becomes physical agony for them to be apart. It manifests as a pain akin to electrocution in the center of the chest. Along with severely heightened aggression and possessiveness until they do.”

 

“So there’s no way to stop it once it starts?” that didn’t sound very pleasant at all.

 

“Kid, let me give you one solid piece of advice that you should never _ever_ forget.” He was suddenly serious, no mirth or mocking tone in his voice at all. “Don’t _EVER_ interrupt the process of soul-bonding courtship if you can help it. If you interrupt the process before its reached a conclusion, the souls will become unstable. Neurotic. The souls can lose themselves in the pain of that disruption to the point that their physical forms are compromised. Not even I would do something so heinous. I’ve seen some serious demons come out of soul-bonding interruptions.” Flowey’s petals shuddered. “If you suspect one is happening? _Leave it alone_. We don’t need your pathetic human world destroyed, along with all of us monsters in it, capiche?”

 

There was a cold feeling in your gut as he said that, your throat dry with the weight of that warning. You honestly didn’t think you’d ever witness one, but made a note of it in the back of your mind anyway. If even this little flower-power monster was willing to warn you against it, then it had to be serious enough to garner caution.

 

“Yeah. Of course.” you said.

“Good. So now if we’re quite finished here, it’s your turn to uphold your end of the bargain. Cough up bone bro’s phone number. I’ve got something to tell him.”

 

You pull your phone out of your pocket without a work, flicking the screen to life and clicking the happy icon of Papyrus’ face on the contact screen. As you rattled off the digits to Flowey, you sent up a sincere and heartfelt prayer that this wouldn’t backfire on you at some point and cause more trouble than all of this was worth. Whether or not that prayer would be heard by some sentient being residing in space or not; only time would tell.

 

* * *

 

_Shit. He found me again._

 

It was the first thought in your head as you exited the stairwell, ducking low and attempting to sneak back out into the hall and towards the side doors you came through. Just a few more feet and you would have had it. You would have been home fucking _free_. But no, the gods of convenience finally decided that your luck was up and gave you the middle finger as a whirling coat of black quickly rounded the corner to your left.

Tall and dressed entirely in black save for that stupid white turtleneck, ghoulish orbs flashing bright and going from grey to violet the second they locked on you. Shit, you’d have to do a lot of explaining if he decided to question you about your absence today. By the looks of it, he was already in a heightened state of aggravation. There was little you could do to quell his anger at this point. You’d get an earful for sure. Whooo boy, did you not want that.

 

_And yet the powerful shock as your heart jumped in your chest the longer you looked at him had you taking a single step towards him, despite the screaming of your inner voice to just make a mad dash for the door._

 

Suddenly his feet were moving, too fast, carrying him to you, closing the distance of the hall too easily for your liking. The door was twenty, maybe thirty feet down the hall directly in front of you. If you sprinted, you’d make it. Just slam the door behind you, book it down the road, hide out in a coffee shop or convenience store somewhere until it blew over. You could do this, right?

 

_But that feeling, warm and welling and absolutely electric in your chest whispered for you to stay. To see what would happen if you let him come to you. To hear his voice say your name like it had during that late night not too long ago. Let it carry your mind someplace else._

 

**__________________________________________ **

**_\--- >Run_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Stay_ ** **_  
_ ** ****__________________________________________

 

 **_*_ ** _You chose to run._

* * *

 

Gaster was panting, a hand immediately flying to clutch at his chest the moment he saw you. A vision of disheveled gold in the setting sun as it bounced through the halls and illuminated you before him. Something powerful, painful even, surged through him the second his eyes locked onto you. It screamed for him to grab you, to scold you for ignoring him, for deliberately hiding from and avoiding him. It lit him up like fire, the pain growing the longer you stayed in your place. But then you took an imperceptibly small step forward, and it was all he needed to spur him towards you. He hadn’t even take three steps before you tore down the hall ahead, boots pounding heavily on the cracked linoleum.

 

Gaster didn’t think, just took off after you. There was a pounding in his skull; loud, incessant, wanting. He couldn’t let you escape. Couldn’t let you leave him without so much as a word of explanation. Reputation and work be damned. There was something more important to his soul right now that he needed to taken care of. And it started with catching you before you could leave through those doors.

 

You stumbled for a moment, and he took full advantage of it, apparition hands coming into existence to steady you before you fell headlong into the door. He pulled you away from the handle, pressing you up against the wall with a snarl, trapping you with his arms. Your breaths were ragged, chest heaving and face flushed as you looked up at him with those startled and uncertain eyes. You were close, so close again. The aching in his soul reaching a crescendo that had him choking, reaching out to touch your face. Anything at all to quell the agony blooming in his ribs. Those fingers were so soft at they touched his arm, the whisper of his name far sweeter a drug than he readily cared to admit. Everything slowed down, unraveling faster and faster, the space between getting ever smaller the more he pressed your smaller form against himself.

 

Then your mouth was on his and he swore to the gods he could breathe again. Every ounce of his being singing, fisting his hand in those tangled tresses, locking you in place against him. You were sweet and warm and absolutely healing. The pain his chest gave way to a pleasant burn that hummed throughout his limbs, every bit of magic hyper sensitive as it registered every soft moan from those lips and caress of those fingers.

 

There was magic pooling where you wrapped your legs around his waist. He was all too happy to press you more firmly to that wall, pulling away briefly only to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. And sweet Asgore, the moan that echoed through those halls at that moment should have been an absolute sin with how excited it made him. Those clothes were in his way, covering you from him. Keeping him from marking you. From making sure you never thought to ignore him ever again. The taste of your skin and those needy pants and he raked his fingers down your thighs cracked at what little reserves to his self control he had left.

Gaster unbuckled the straps to those ridiculous overalls and pulled your shirt high over your chest, sinking his teeth into any spot he could reach, pinning your wrists above you with his magic. The serenade of your sweet screams had him blacking out briefly, rutting against you in a slow rhythm.

 

“D-doc!” you gasped, “w-we could get… haaah… caught!”

 

“You should have… hahh… thought of that before you ran from me like that.” his voice was a growl in your ears, fingers dancing along your sides, drifting lower, caressing the exposed flesh of your hip. “I’ll teach you to ignore me.”

 

Your body squirmed at his words, the tips of his fingers brushing along the rough hairs just below your navel. Stars above, he could smell your musk from here. Perhaps no one would come down here for another hour or two. Maybe he could…

 

“doc??? _____????”

 

Everything froze. The knot in his stomach turning into ice and plummeting at his brother’s voice. Sans was standing at the end of the hall, a file in hand and his phone in the other, pressed to the side of his skull. The lights in his sockets went out the longer he stared at the openly lewd display before him. Your practically half naked body and the telltale glow from Gaster’s pants leaving little to the imagination.

 

“UH!! U-UM! WAIT WE CAN-”

 

“Sans, I-”

 

His voice was dark, serious, and threatening. “t _he two of you mind telling me what’s goin’ on here?_ ”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowey has a plan, Sans is pissed, and both you and the Doc are in for a workplace professionalism refresher!  
> Flowey may exhibit some malicious and sassy behavior, but he really does like it when his opinion and knowledge are appreciated. So part of him helping you was to feed his need to be taken seriously and listened to. You know, feeding his ego and whatnot. As for what he'll do with Pap's number, nobody knows!! Tune in next week for more of my bullshit!! YEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!
> 
> Questions? Suggestions? Complaints? Comments?
> 
> Toss a bag of cheetos out your window to summon me directly to your location!


	12. When it rains...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long day for you, and some PLOT, BROS.

You hadn’t been expecting the silence. Not the way he slowly closed the files in his hand, nor they way he steadily turned around and let the two of you get decent. Not even the way in which he had calmly asked you to leave the building for the day, and take the next day off work tomorrow. Everything about his demeanor had your mind and soul screaming with dread. Silence was never a good sign when someone was angry with you. With anyone. Silence is what started wars, what broke apart marriages, what destroyed homes and long-standing friendships. And it was in that silence, that the loudest words were spoken. Ones you couldn’t deny feeling in your gut.

His image was all you saw, staring at the rain clinging to the window as you lay on the dirty floor. Those dark sockets haunting your dreams, no matter how brief. His tone, his body language. You drive the heels of your palms into your eyes, the pain marginal compared to the regret the wracked your soul. Just what the hell had you been doing? What the fuck was this all about? Why would you go and deliberately engage with your own employer that way? No, not even just as an employer. Something about Gaster’s behaviour was off. And you knew it. You KNEW it! So why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you say something? Do something? Just what the fuck was wrong with you?

You turn over, curling up into a ball with a loud groan. There was no way in hell you were ready to face either of them again, come tomorrow. You didn’t get any emails or messages from anyone at all today. Not Alph, Not Undyne, not even Papyrus. Which only meant that perhaps Sans had told them about the little fiasco. And now they were all silently judging you for being such a loose human among them. Gods, the thought made everything worse. If the burning shame and regret could burn you alive anymore than it was doing now, you’d be a grateful pile of ash for the release. It was one thing to be pissed at yourself for your behaviour. It was another entirely for your own friends to feel the same. Dealing with the guilt of your actions was much easier to do on your own. You didn’t need the disappointed looks and judgement from them as well. Gods, fuck. Just, why?

The time on your cell read back the early morning hour, bright white numbers burning your too-tired eyes. 5am, huh? Looks like there was a bank notification on your phone as well. The paycheck must have dropped. Which meant that you needed to pay up for rent today. And run errands. Food, and the phone bill, and paying back Undyne for spotting you for lunch that one time. And even Sans for buying you break...fast…..

Tears stung at your eyes. You attempted to swallow past the lump suddenly caught in your throat. It all sucked. You just wanted your life to get a little easier. You were finally starting to have fun and make friends again. It wasn’t the end of the world because of one mistake. One big, big mistake. So then why was your mind screaming in fear right now? Why did you feel like the world might as well be ending? Compulsion in the mind led to thoughts churning, burning, roiling over one another until you had to physically tear yourself from your spot on the floor, and force your shoes on your feet to get away from them. If you couldn’t find solace in the positive, then you wouldn’t think at all.

 

____________________________________

_*You decide to leave the apartment_

____________________________________

 

You snag your keys off the broken end table, stuff your phone in your pocket and pull open the front door. A blur of white catches your eyes, a thin piece of plastic whipping around and bumping the knuckle of your thumb. It startled you for a moment, your heart racing, thinking it to be another eviction notice. Instead, your eyes land upon a neatly coiled pair of white headphones dangling from the knob. No note, no indication of who left it. Just tied carefully with a bread tie, and placed carefully behind the fragile rope from the wooden flamingo sign that still read, ‘Welcome to Hell’. A gift from Undyne when you first met. Guilt reignited in your gut at the sight. Whoever put it there, obviously didn’t want to talk to you. Right now, you felt as though you were in a social time-out from all of the people you cared about over an idiotic lapse in judgement on your part. It hurt to know you couldn’t talk to anyone. Hurt to know you were alone right now. It hurt.

There was nothing worse than being alone when you struggled so hard not to be. The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, a quivering breath leaving you as you plucked the headphones from their place and shoved them in your sweater pocket. Your vision swam as you began locking your front door, the glinting brass of the knob becoming nothing more than a colorful blob in your vision the harder you fought back your tears. You were stronger than this, weren’t you? You had been alone and without support or friends for years, hadn’t you? This was nothing! Nothing… But a sob broke free from your mouth anyway, fingers clutching uselessly at the chipping paint on the front door as you slid to your knees. It should have been nothing. People deal with these kinds of things all the time, right? Hardships from fuck ups and bumps in friendships.They were your friends! They wouldn’t ignore you for something like this, would they? It wasn’t that big a deal. It shouldn’t scare you so much. It shouldn’t mean anything.

 

But if that were true, then why did you feel like such a colossal fuck up over all of this? Why wouldn’t your soul settle in its wailing?

 

_I don’t want to be alone..._

 

* * *

 

He found you, wandering the streets of downtown again, eyes glued to the pavement, white earbuds peeking out from underneath the dark grey hoodie you wore. It was nearly soaked through from the late May rain, the temperature having dropped nearly ten degrees since this morning. A small cloud floated from your mouth with every subtle breath, the wind slowly pushing it away overhead. He could have gone over. Could have offered his umbrella. Could have done his damnest to speak to you. To figure out a way of making this work. Talk it out and reconcile. There wasn’t any need at all to be this way. Yet his chest still hummed with the fires of his agitation and betrayal. What had he told you? Every Saturday you’d talk about the things that bothered you? Work it out or something? Sans could make good on that deal right now if he wanted. Bring all this tension to a screeching halt and stop grumbling under his breath anytime someone brought you up. The topic of discussion was still a sore one, of course. Even Alphys felt disappointed in you for acting so irrationally, and he had spared no time at all relaying the whole ordeal to her. (Though Gaster was at equal fault here as well). Undyne didn’t have time to go and see you, since she was covering the shift you left behind after failing to get your Soul Value Identification card in a timely manner. He knew she wanted to see you. Knew she was worried sick about you, being left alone without her for so long, confused about what was happening and under a lot of stress since today was apparently your rent due date. And with Sans himself still fuming, and both his brothers were off doing something else concerning their work today, he also understood that you had no one to talk to.

No one to turn to and share your worries with. You were hurting, there was no question about that. He could feel the unsteady rhythms of your soul from where he stood across the street in front of Grillby’s, bag of food in hand. It would be so easy just to walk over there right now. Ask you to sit for a while and talk everything out. But his grip only tightened on the brown paper bag the longer he stared at your slowly retreating figure, until you disappeared completely around the corner. It would be easy, yes. But Sans also felt like letting you suffer for a bit. Let you learn your lesson before diving in and saving the day, so to speak. Perhaps stewing in your own regrets would let you see logic more clearly the next time he warned you about something you didn’t have the full knowledge to comprehend. Harsh as it may be, it was necessary.

 

______________________________

_*Sans decided to ignore you._

______________________________

 

A bit of tough love could go a long way. Maybe then, you’d learn to listen to him.

 

* * *

 

His brother had never yelled that much before. Not even in their most heated arguments before the Core incident when they still lived underground. The walls must have shook with the force of his anger in that moment. Sans and Papyrus’ small house in the suburbs suddenly the birthing site for a fierce screaming match that had his youngest brother sobbing quietly to himself for hours during the aftermath.   
Gaster’s right cheek still stung from where Sans had punched him. The blatant accusation that his brother only fought so hard to keep him away from the human being that he had a thing for them himself earning him that little token of anger faster than he had time to register. It was a petty accusation at the time, his own magic and regret tumultuous and chaotic after such an embarrassing event. But the way Sans had looked after striking out at him, the way his expression twisted from rage to fear telling him that perhaps the claim had more weight to it than expected. He closed his eyes, the argument still echoing faintly in his skull:

 

“I told you to _stay away_ from them until your magic was at it’s normal levels again! I told you to refrain from _any_ physical contact at the _LEAST!!”_ Sans screamed, fists clenched at his sides. “And what did you fucking do? You go and try to _fuck our goddamn client in the hallway!_ In broad daylight! What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

 

What _was_ wrong with him? Hadn’t he prized his own status and work ethic beyond anything else? Hadn’t this project elated him beyond belief when they stumbled upon this new soul? At the time, Gaster had no response to his brother, simply letting him scream out his preaching until he was satisfied. He hadn’t expected that he would raise his own voice to the same volume after a particularly nasty attack on the human when he accused Gaster of attempting to soul-bond with such a ‘fucked up excuse for a soul this company had ever seen’. Sans couldn’t have meant that. He knew it. Understood it. It still didn’t keep him from knocking him off his feet in rage and demanding he take such a cruel statement back. The livingroom was still an absolute mess from their scuffle, Papyrus having to step in to tear the two of the off of one another before either of them ‘fell down’ from the stress of it all.

Since when had he become so defensive over you? Did it matter? Somehow, the fuzzy memory of those tears and small, scared voice made him want, more than anything, to protect the soul that seemed to call for his own. Something wasn’t right. Everything was moving too quickly, the need to be close too strong and too great a force to ignore. Never before had he experienced such a shock to his system whenever he was around you. There was clearly something not right about the whole situation. One thing, however, was clear as it rang true throughout his being:

 

You deserved company that would protect you, and help you, and support you in your hour of need.

 

It hurt him to hear his brother’s tone, those words practically dripping with avarice. How could he think so poorly of you? How could his own brother be so cruel? Was it just him? Did Gaster not see the flaws you carried, in favor of viewing you as a match more ideal than you actually were?

He shook his head, opening his eyes with a sigh. Sans had left earlier that morning without a word. No doubt he was frequenting that greasy bar he so loved, Grillby’s. It would probably be best to let him cool down before attempting a second round at this issue. He rose from his spot at the kitchen table and reached for his phone. It was still early enough in the day to pay a quick visit to the office and see if they got anything back from the head of the HMRD department.

 

Staying preoccupied was probably best, at this point.

* * *

 

**GROUP TEXT: 4 RECIPIENTS**

 

 **Alph:** I got a message back from _____. They’re asking to talk. I’m guessing it’s about that, uh… thing? But I’m kind of stuck in a meeting with Asgore and the Queen right now! Do any of you think you could visit them? See how they’re doing? ( ^-^) ?

 

 **Paps:** I WOULD LOVE TO! BUT UNFORTUNATELY THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ESCORTING FRISK BACK TO THE KING AND QUEEN’S RESIDENCE WHILE THEY ARE AT A MEETING! SO I WILL HAVE TO VISIT THEM WHEN MY WORK IS COMPLETE!

 

 **Alph:** Oop! That’s right! Eheheheh, sorry Papyrus, I kind of forgot you were just here!

 

 **Undyne:** I’m stuck pulling a double today! So someone better go love on that punk in my absence or ALL OF YOU are gunna get it from me! Ya hear?!?

 

____________________

 

Sans stared at the group text, waiting for the light to change so he could cross the busy intersection. The rain had really begun to pour again, filling his sneakers with water and further fouling his mood. Why did it always rain more in May than in April? The surface was a little too wet for his liking. Wiping a droplet from the screen, he quickly typed out a reply.

_____________________

**GROUP TEXT: 4 RECIPIENTS**

 

 **Me:** i’m sure they’re alright. Let’s just give them some space right now.

 

 **Paps:** BUT BROTHER! I AM SURE THE HUMAN IS QUITE UPSET AFTER YESTERDAY’S… EVENTS. SHOULDN’T WE BE ATTEMPTING WHAT FRISK CALLS ‘DAMAGE CONTROL’?

 

 **Alph:** I’m kind of with Papyrus on this one, Sans. I’m not happy with what happened, but the longer you leave it, the worse it will get.

 **Undyne:** Wait, what the heck are you guys talking about? I thought this was just a normal drop-in to see if _____ was still breathin? What the hell happened?

 

 **Undyne:** And I don’t want any of this dodgey crap you guys always pull on me and Paps when we’re left out of the nerdy scientist group! Is the punk alright?? Did someone mess with them?

 

 **Paps:** UNFORTUNATELY, UNDYNE, I ALREADY KNOW ABOUT THE SITUATION! SINCE BOTH OF MY BROTHERS ARE INVOLVED, I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO KNOW! ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY SPENT A GOOD BIT OF THE NIGHT SCREAMING ABOUT IT.

 

 **Undyne:** Screaming about it?? Okay, Sans. You better cough up some answers NOW or I’ll come find your boney ass myself! What did you do to my best friend?!

 

 **Sans:** nothing of consequence, i promise you. Look, just let the situation die down a bit. I’ll talk to them once i’m done running errands today, okay?

 

 **Undyne:** YOU BETTER!!!

 

 **Paps:** I’M WITH UNDYNE ON THIS ONE! GO TALK TO OUR NEW FRIEND IMMEDIATELY, BROTHER!! THEN GO AND MAKE UP WITH GASTER!! OR I WILL REFRAIN FROM COOKING ANY MEALS FOR YOU TWO FOR A WEEK!

 

 **Alph:** Not to gang up on you here, Sans, but I’m with them as well. Please fix the situation before it gets any uglier.

 

 **Undyne:** Huh, wait a second. Did anyone actually try texting them? I just sent one, and it doesn’t look like they’re responding.

 

 **Alph:** That’s strange. I got one from them not even ten minutes ago.

 

 **Paps:** WHAT DID IT SAY?

 

 **Alph:** “Do you have a minute? I really need someone to talk to right now, and I think everyone else is busy.”

 

 **Paps:** I JUST SENT ONE TO THEM AS WELL! NORMALLY THE HUMAN IS VERY PROMPT WITH THEIR RESPONSES! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS BEGINNING TO WORRY...

 

 **Me:** guys, relax. I’ll go check on them, if you’re all so worried. Just leave it to me.

 

* * *

 

You swipe the screen for the tenth time, the blank home screen greeting you in the same state it had nearly to hours before. No new messages, no calls or emails. Nothing at all. You shiver in your soaked sweater, the rain sapping what little warmth you had left. Even your socks were soaked completely through, squishing uncomfortably with each loud, wet slap of your sneaker on the concrete. Despite the hour you had spent speaking to, (and arguing with), your landlord after paying the rent for another month, you knew it was probably still too early for anyone to be up for conversing with you. Even the message you sent to Alphys didn’t get a reply.

You were beginning to wonder just how badly you had fucked up with all of this. In hindsight, sure, it was stupid and reckless and even downright idiotic. But who doesn’t fuck up like that, right? Then again… this was one of the to scientists and his assistant you were talking about. Even if you _had_ gotten chummy with them over the past month and some change, didn’t mean you could get too friendly and forsake your common sense altogether. And didn't Sans even warn you about your soul causing some weird kind of fluctuation in Gaster's magic or something? If that was the truth, then it kind of was your fault, to an extent, not stopping the weird attraction thing that the doc was showing for you when it first started after that test down in Alph’s lab. It would have been a lot easier on you in the long run, if you had just walked out of the kitchen when he…

 

_But it felt so nice having someone attracted to me in that way. It’s so nice to be liked. It’s so nice to receive that kind of attention. Right? It didn’t feel like it was so bad to indulge a little. It felt so GOOD having someone lose themselves like that around me. So, so good._

 

You shake your head, grunting angrily. That was selfish. Too selfish. And very nearly disgusting. You didn’t stop him because you wanted him to keep liking you in that way? Just so you could feel validated? Needed? Wanted, even? Disgusting. Utterly disgusting. Your stomach coiled with shame. You couldn’t deny it, though. It felt so nice to be cared for, worried about, sought after. It had been so long since someone saw any intrinsic value in you. Let alone be attracted to you in a romantic way. Gaster was a tall spire of salt with a lightyear of lead shoved up his taught, scientist ass, of course. But he was actually not that bad of a person. Kind of handsome too. But…. did you even like him in that way? Could you say with absolute honesty that you were attracted to him romantically? Or were you doing this out of a deep desire to be needed and loved?

You had even allowed Sans to kiss you after the two of you fought the other night. You did nothing to stop that either. Damn it, the odds were seriously starting to stack up against you right now. If you got any looser, you’d think yourself a classic example of a slut. A whore for affection.

 

It was a term someone once used for you, back in the old town you lived in prior to this one. At the time, it felt harsh. Uncalled for. You had punched that person in the mouth for it in a fit of rage. Of course you immediately regretted it, but your anger streak back then was much worse than it had ever been. Virulence grew in the bed of weeds you called a family that you lived amongst. They were a disease all their own in your eyes. Or maybe that was just you being bitter again? Who knew at this point. It was cold, you were soaked through and feeling pretty shitty about the events of the day prior. If anything, wandering around out here felt much better than laying on the floor doing nothing. Still, it would be really nice to have someone to talk to right now. And none of your new monster friends appeared to want to have anything to do with you. Not even Paps… and you thought for sure you’d at least get something from him.

Your chest ached as you scrolled through the contacts on the droplet covered screen. Someone. There had to be _someone_ in there, right? Someone to talk to? Someone who would listen? Old coworkers, distant friends, a random acquaintance? Someone? Anyone..?

 

_Please… I don’t want to be alone._

 

But the list was short. The battery dying the longer your eyes scanned the scarce few names logged. You always did your best to be as kind and jovial as you possibly could, no matter the situation you were in. A bubbly attitude always served you in the work industry. You did your best to try and connect, but was this really the fruits of your effort? Anger flashed through your system for a brief moment before giving way to a restlessness that seemed to have you twitching at the wrists. _Why was it so damn hard to make and keep friends? Shouldn’t it just be much easier than this? People did this thing all the time and had no trouble with it._  Negative thoughts took over once more and you found yourself walking over a bridge towards the other end of town.

Damn. Looks like you walked further than you had initially intended. Maybe heading back now was a good option. Best not to wander too far, in case an actual storm rolls by. But the brown and murky depths of those rushing waters below seemed a little too fascinating. You didn’t think the river ever got this high. Even the small walkway for the tunnels beneath the bridge were completely covered! With how high the water was, the drop didn’t look as long as it did before.

 

_Wonder if anyone would die falling from this height? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone attempting it off of this bridge. High, sure. But not high enough. I actually think I remember seeing some guy fishing off of this bridge once too. Heh. kind of stupid, but i wonder if the dude actually caught anything?_

 

________________________________________

_*You decide to stay._

________________________________________

 

You idly touch the cold, wet metal bars, leaning against the top of them with a sigh. Sometimes rivers made you think about sinking old soda cans with rocks when you were a kid. Back then, it had been a form of stress relief, given how poor your family had been. Couldn’t even afford many toys or games. But it was something. Looking at the ruthless current of the waters down below, it looked like that wasn’t really an option. But maybe trying to toss something buoyant on it could have a mildly same effect? Let’s see… was there anything lying around here that would do the trick?

An old paper cup, a few rock, a piece of metal from a nearby hubcap. Nah, none of that would do. An old plastic bag, a bendee straw. It felt really silly, rummaging through the street garbage, yet the knot in your chest uncoiled itself just a tiny bit as your fingers clasped a small, fake plastic flower, stained with mud around the edges. It was an ugly neon pink, and just bright enough to see against the water. Not exactly a sailboat, but if you attached that old bendy straw from earlier, you could have yourself a proper float to send out into the great beyond.

 

Not a solution. But maybe a distraction could be exactly what you needed. Dwelling on nervous and negative thoughts only ever made things worse anyway, right?

 

* * *

 

You weren’t at your apartment. Or the clinic. Or back in the downtown area like he thought you’d be. Sans didn’t teleport often, given how much it drained him on the surface. But it was necessary. The sky was growing darker with the threat of a particularly nasty storm, and his phone was blowing up with nervous messages from everyone worrying about your whereabouts. He couldn’t very well tell them that you weren’t at your place. Then they’d _really_ start to freak out. What had it been, nearly 18 hours since you ran back home to your place once he sent you off? He had been so sure you’d been in there when he put those headphones on the door after Alphys handed them off to him when he visited her. The light was on underneath the door, and there was faint music coming through the crack. That was earlier in the day, after the argument with Gaster. Then he saw you wandering around near Grillby’s. That put you missing at about four hours. Anything could happen in four hours.

 

**GROUP TEXT: 4 RECIPIENTS**

**Alph:** Oh jesus oh god

 

 **Undyne:** This better be about an anime or I swear to god Alph

 

 **Paps:** WHAT IS WRONG?

 

 **Alph:** i just turned on the news in the break room, and i tried calling _____ and i couldn’t get through

 

 **Paps:** I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. WHAT DO THOSE THINGS HAVE TO DO WITH ONE ANOTHER?

 

 **Undyne:** What’s on the news that’s got you so upset?

 

 **Me:** hey guys. I can’t seem to find _____. Aren’t they supposed to be paying rent today or something? I’ll check their apartment one more time, just to be sure.

 

 **Me:** wait, i just read the previous texts. What’s going on? What’s on the news?

 

 **Alph:** they found a body in the river just now, saying that someone slipped and fell in

 

 **Paps:** WAS IT THE HUMAN?!

 

 **Undyne:** Alph I have it on the news and I don’t see

 

 **Undyne:** Oh fuck

 

 **Undyne:** I know that fucking ugly as hell sweater it’s _____’s

 

 **Undyne:**  they said the person was washed downstream. Some of them are saying they jumped

 

 **Undyne:** I’m leaving work right now and driving down there.

 

 **Paps:** WAIT UNDYNE I’LL COME WITH YOU, I’M DROPPING FRISK OFF NOW! I’LL BE THERE SOON!

___________________________

Sans didn’t read the rest of the messages. Didn’t pay attention to his phone buzzing like mad in his hand as he began frantically darting his eyes around, trying to figure out what river they could be talking about. There were only two spots it ran throughout the entire city. Just two spots.

 

_You know, sometimes I come up here when I feel like dying_

 

One of them had a bridge overlooking the end on the other side of town. The other ran through the factories to the north. Too far for you to have walked. Which meant that the bridge he was looking for was nearly a twenty minute walk away.

 

_Sometimes, I think I can escape the things that scare me if I just ignore them. If I just continue living like there’s nothing wrong, and hope it works itself out in the end._

 

He didn’t have twenty minutes. So he tried to think of a spot from memory just close enough for him to teleport to. Somewhere he was familiar with. Somewhere he had been before. Come on, sans, think! He was running before he could register it, stumbling over the curb as he bolted back across the busy intersection, not bothering to wait for the light. There was the bistro on 33rd street. The subway station they always took to get to Undyne’s. The bridge was just south of the station. From there it was a five minute walk. It was as close as he could get. He closed his eyes, tried to focus.

 

_Like it would all just, disappear. A bad dream, or just a bad thought. Like these bubbles. Poof. Just like that._

 

The world warped and jumped around him, landing him ten feet from the station entrance. Sans didn’t think, just sprinted as fast as he was capable towards the location of the bridge. The streets were practically flooding, cars honking angrily as they screeched to a halt, inches from hitting him. He didn’t care. Fuck, he didn’t care. Not when there was a very real chance he had fucked up _immensely_ today by not stopping you. By not coming over to you. By not crossing the goddamn street and swallowing his pride enough to talk it out with you. He was pissed! He was angry about what happened! He was hurt! He felt betrayed by his brother! By YOU! But now-!

 

His ribs collided with the metal railings, slick with water and grime. He was heaving, fear gripping at his senses like a feral creature, digging itself deep into his bones. He didn’t mean it. He shouldn’t have let you walk away. Should have been there to stop you from wandering over to the bridge. Should have kept you safe like he promised.

 

_What if they didn’t slip?_

 

_What if they jumped?_

Oh sweet stars and galaxies above don’t let it be true. Not another body on his conscience. Not another regret, another memory burning itself into his dreams, blaming him for all of his mistakes. It would be another voice in the throes of agony wailing inside of him. You would become another engineer, hung by the neck, drowning in your pain as he turned a blind eye. Only this time, the pain would be worse. Much, much worse. Because you weren’t a stranger. No. It would be worse because he actually _knew_ you. _Cared_ about you.

 

_Loved you._

 

Sans took a panicked breath, his voice pitched too high, filled with terror. “_____!!” he screamed over the sound of the rushing waters far below him. “_____!!!”

 

His voice sounded so broken. It was wracked with grief, cracking around the edges as he pushed himself further over the bars to scan the waters below. It was useless. With how fast it was going, there was no way you would still be around in this area. It would have dragged that fragile human body under, thrashed it against the rocks, broken the bones. Everything dulled and slowed to a crawl all around him. The world suddenly losing it’s color and vibrancy. The sky too dark, too threatening. The rumbling thunder too loud.

 

“_____!!!!!” He screamed one last time, drawing the attention of a few of the reporters in the area, and even one of the firefighters shouting orders at the men along the edges of the river. He hadn’t even noticed them there up until now.  Sans hadn’t registered anything at all outside of the crushing weight of the terror and loss.

 

Something flashed in the distance, something… maroon. Not that far, maybe three hundred meters out.  He had his feet on the railing, ready to vault straight into that fucking river, but someone held him back, shouting his name. It was a female voice, gruff and thick with unshed tears.

 

Undyne was here.

But he didn’t care. Couldn’t care.

 

He was shouting your name, all his energy put into fighting to find you, to bring you back-

 

“Guys..?”

 

Everything froze completely, his skull swiveling so fast it cracked. You stood, drenched and shivering, blinking dumbly at them. There was a white blanket draped around your trembling shoulders, a firefighter leading you by the elbow as you stumbled along. Various media crew began running towards you, microphones held out, questions on their lips, eyes hungry for a story.

Sans wasn’t having it. He ripped himself free from Undyne’s stunned grasp and threw himself at you hard enough to send you flying backward. It wasn’t long before Paps and Undyne followed suit, kneeling down on the pavement and crying with relief.

* * *

 

That last little reach over the bar had been a gross oversight on your part. The bottom railing was a lot slipperier than you gauged it to be. The little pink floater danced along an eddie in the water. It was fun to look at. But then it started to move _against_ the current. Almost as if something were dragging it along under the water. So you leaned further out, squinting through the rain to follow a barely perceptible thin shadow that snaked around the end of the straw sticking out of the end of the flower. It was… green? It looked a little bit like a vine, really. Maybe it just got caught on some kind of plant in the water, and it only made it seem like it was moving backward? Still that was pretty interesting.

You know, up until the point where something nudged your right foot just enough to have you flip over the railing and fall in. At first all you felt was force. Great and powerful force. Like a pool or jacuzzi jet set to airplane jet mode, rocketing you down the river faster than you were pretty sure was even possible.

Air, you had needed air. But the current was too fast, too strong! So you stuck out your arm, trying to grab at something, anything!  For a brief moment, you snagged on something sharp. It cut at your arm, sending searing pain into your fingers. But it was enough to pull yourself above the surface, slapping your soaked arms onto the surface of a jagged rock, feet scrabbling uselessly beneath the surface, looking for purchase to push yourself up. It almost worked, until another crash from those waves send you flying backward into another rock, ripping your hoodie off of you and knocking the damn wind out of you.

Thankfully, you were pinned so firmly in place, you could be carried no further. The world spun above you for a while, and everything kind of became hazy up until some man in a firefighter uniform yanked you out of the water and threw a blanket over you. That was quite the ordeal. And you were still pretty wobbly from it all. Though, you could swear you heard Sans’ voice echoing over all that chaos. You were pretty far out, when you thought about it. How long had you been fighting that current? When had the fire department been called? Looks like you were losing out on a bit of time there.

Still, with Sans on top of you, sobbing and rubbing his face against your cheek and neck, Undyne and Papyrus pulling you up and shouting incoherently, you couldn’t help but feel your own tears spilling down your face. They were all blubbering like idiots, and it made you so fucking happy to feel so worried about. To feel so loved. Something pushed you over the edge of that railing. Or at least, nudged you over. Maybe. You couldn’t be too sure. But right now, only they mattered.

You’d talk about it later. For now, you just wanted to keep them here like this for a while.

* * *

 

Everyone was in a nearby cafe, the manager offering free coffee and hot chocolate to anyone who needed it. The workers behind the counter were disgruntled by it, but accommodating nonetheless. Undyne and Paps had clung to you for the longest, shouting at you for not answering your phone or responding to their texts. After a very long and tense pause, you smiled nervously up at them, and said,

 

“I paid my rent today. But forgot to pay the phone bill. I was, ah, already a month behind on it.”

 

Well, that didn’t sit well with them. They were livid. Moreso Undyne than Paps. But he was still just as upset over it. The story of _how_ exactly you fell over the edge didn’t seem to sit well with them either. Especially the part about the vine under the water. They exchanged looks, and then looked over to Sans nervously. He had a sneaking suspicion, but didn’t want to speculate now. Instead, he told them to head back to work, let them know what happened, and then they’d all meet back up at Undyne and Alph’s place as a group. At Paps insistence, everyone agreed to another sleepover. Apparently near death experiences via drowning could be cured with affection and pillow forts of friendship. Sans didn’t complain. Didn’t argue. Just nodded and told him he’d see to it that you got a change of clothes back home before packing up and heading over.

 

They looked so reluctant to leave, exchanging one last, long, bone crushing hug that brought about a fresh wave of tears from all three of you. Then Paps bounded out the front door, waiting patiently for Undyne to join him. She leaned down, hands on either side of your face, voice soft and wavering,

 

“You wouldn’t ever think of jumping… right? You really did just slip?”

 

You looked shell-shocked for a minute, gripping her wrists tightly. “No. Never. I slipped. I promise. What good would jumping do me? If I left you behind on your own, you’d have no one to chaperone you while you’re downtown punching mailboxes on a Sunday again.”

 

Sans had never seen Undyne so fearful, even with a wobbly smile on her face. She looked vulnerable and worn out, tucking your head to her chest with a sigh. “We’re best friends. Remember that. Talk to me. Please, just talk to me if shit happens and it’s hurting you. No matter what it is. Got it?”

 

You nodded against her, hugging her tightly around the waist. Sans let the two of you have your moment, politely turning his attention back to the hot cup of coffee still steaming in the styrofoam cup in front of him. Taking a tentative sip, he allowed the tension to relax from his shoulders. It wasn’t the best coffee. But it was good enough. When the two of you finally separated, she sent a pointed look his way.

 

“You and me are having a talk later.” Shit, if that didn’t put him back on edge.

 

But he nodded anyway. “Of course. At your place?”

 

“Yeah. See you punks there.” Undyne patted your head before pushing open the front doors and jogging over to Papyrus. They climbed into her car, and soon drove out of sight.

 

It was just you and him, now. And he had a fucking hell of a lot to apologize for.

 

_________________________

_*Sans decides to stay._

_________________________

* * *

 

Your hand was in his, and the cold chill sitting there on it stirred his soul in an unpleasant way. How long before a human succumbs to the cold when they’re like this? He had teleported the two of you back to your apartment. You were still wrapped up in that blanket, smiling gently down at him, an apology lingering in that gaze. He knew you wanted to talk about what happened. Wanted to apologize for the thing with his brother. And if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t a discussion he was ready to have just yet. He almost lost you to his own fucking petty jealousy and pride. It stung at his soul in a way that he knew he would never forget.

He knew you didn’t think the world of him right now. Hell, you probably never would again. But it didn’t keep him from wanting to try, god damn it. You meant too much. It was only in the face of nearly losing you for good that he could readily admit to himself that a lot of his displeasure with your growing closeness to his eldest brother came from a place of jealousy. Not entirely, since he was actually pretty concerned about the state of his brother’s soul and magic, but still a place of jealousy nonetheless.

 

You removed your hand from his, telling him you’d shower quickly and get a change of clothes so you could head out. He allowed you to shuffle away down the hall with great reluctance. There were no rivers in your room. No chance of you being hurt behind these walls so long as he was here. But when his eyes found the broken legs of the end table again, the memory of the last fight he had with you, he began to think that maybe even that wasn’t true.

Sans pulled out his phone, finally reading through the messages and even sending one out to Gaster to notify him of what had occurred. He may still be hurt by all of this, but he wasn’t an asshole. No doubt he’d find out anyway. No use hiding it, right?

 

Something clattered loudly in your room, followed by a soft curse. His bones were still alight with the adrenaline he felt earlier after you were pulled from the water. His feet carried him to your door, about to knock when his breath caught in his throat. You were naked, clutching a towel to your stomach, bending down to right a chair you had knocked over. There were bruises along your back, probably from the rocks. The doctor said you didn’t appear to be too hurt, but they still looked pretty painful. A cut ran down your forearm, marring the tender skin, making him wish he could heal it for you. The curve of your neck in the dim light of your bedroom lamp sent shocks through his chest. He knew what this was. Knew what his soul was trying to do. But he couldn’t. He didn’t… didn’t want to. Not when you still might feel something for Gaster. Not when there was a chance you couldn’t really be his. When you didn’t want to be.

 

You turn around, attempting to collect a stack of spilled books and papers with a sigh. The bones of your spine pressed against the skin, those angry looking bruises stretching like ill-placed paint on a living canvas. There were marks on your skin, proof of memories and moments you lived through, pieces of a life history long before he knew you. You were… beautiful, to put it into a word.

Sans pushed open the door quietly, your string of curses and mumbling effectively hiding any noise he might have made as he slowly knelt down behind you, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you to his chest. Your entire body went stiff, a strange sounding squawk vibrating through your chest. But he pressed his mouth to the nape of your neck, a bitterness filling him as he whispered,

 

“Why does he have to be the one?”

 

“Sans, what-?”

 

“Why not me?” it was even quieter, the smooth bone of his teeth brushing the base of your skull. It hurt so, so much to be this close.

 

It was too quiet. He felt gentle fingers touch the bones of his hand tentatively. “Sans..?”

 

He let go, standing up. It wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on it now. There would come a time to talk about these things. To reconcile with his brother. To address the hurt he felt in his soul over all of this. Now was not that time. Boney fingers reached out and softly brushed the crest of those unruly strands.

 

“I’ll be out in the hall waiting. Just let me know when you’re good to go. I’ll teleport us, since it looks like a storm is coming through the area.” He dropped his hand and walked out, closing the door behind him quietly.  

 

There would be a time. A moment alone with you, when there wasn’t something serious happening around the two of you. It might be a while. But he was a patient skeleton monster. Sans would have his time. He was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

His cell was going off somewhere in the room. He was sure of it. The buzzing notifications sending vibrations along the top of the marred mahogany surface of his desk. But he only barely registered this. Gaster couldn’t feel his fingers where they held the paper in a trembling grasp. The words stared back at him in bold, black ink. Cold and unfeeling. The life of a soul drawn out in a bland tone, nothing but business and numbers. Nothing but another item to add to the pile. Even the sounds from the clock seem to muffle and slow to a complete halt as he read.

 

**Dr. Gaster:**

 

**Subject: Client0511**

**Soul Value: Tenacity**

 

**We regret to inform you that your data on the capabilities of this soul are inconclusive and cannot allow placement of an unstable soul into a working society. We will be terminating this project and enrolling the subject in a soul rehabilitation program to better stabilize and utilize them. The head of our department will be by to tag them promptly at 9:30 am on the 11th of this month.**

**Please be sure to alert your secretary, so that they may clear out the area before the procedure takes place. They will be under your care until the stabilization is complete. This program will require the subject to be moved indefinitely into the lower west wing of the building for the remainder of this program. You will relinquish any medical history and personal files on the client upon arrival. If you have any further questions on the matter, please contact the head of the department between the appropriate office hours.**

**Regards,**

 

**Chairman of HMRD**

 

 

Rehabilitation program… you were being removed from their current project. Your soul deemed too unstable via the data collected. Even after Gaster had spent so long reworking the paperwork so that this wouldn’t happen. He had tried to desperately to find ways of boosting the positive effects of your soul value, of attempting to shine light on its potential. Had he done the exact opposite, and hurt your chances at a proper future instead? First the incident of his utter recklessness and ill behaviour prior, and now this?

Something vile mixed in his stomach and throat. The entirety of the world feeling like it was being torn from beneath him. The head of HMRD would be here personally to ‘enroll’ you in the program. You would not have a say in the matter. He could not find a way to protect you from them. He could not save you. None of them could. Souls enrolled in the ‘program’ seldom came out the same way as when they went it. If they were lucky, they were only a shell of their former selves, coherent enough to take orders when given. The luckiest of the few found soul bonds with corresponding soul values that stabilized them. But those were only the meager 2% out of the hundreds that had undergone enrollment.

You would be forced into this. Taken from your home and moved into the lower west wing. The one area closed off from the rest of the clinic. And for a damn good reason as well. Last he checked, only one or two residents still wandered around down there that he knew of. It was not the best place for a soul like yours. It sent him into a cold and terrible horror. Your soul was unstable enough to warrant an immediate red flag from them. How you had survived this long without detection was beyond him. But now, it was inevitable.

 

They wanted to have you quarantined.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably guess who the sleezy bastard was behind that tumble. Looks like someone is enacting a certain plan of theirs! Also, it was storming over here earlier! Wowie! What great atmosphere for this chapter!  
> I also just realized!  
> I END ALL MY SENTENCES WITH EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!
> 
> Questions?  
> Comments?  
> Sacrificial offerings?
> 
> Contact me today by throwing flowers into a river and yelling the name of your favorite food!!!


	13. Grip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a bit getting this one out. 
> 
> A little plot and backdrop for you peeps!

That night, Sans wasn’t the only one who received a talk from the scaly couple. You really had suspected as much on the subway ride over. Sans had been quiet. The harsh light of the train making the dark rings around his sockets seem deeper than usual. He looked absolutely exhausted. Worn out and stretched thin. You didn’t know what was happening to him. Or what was going on in his life that was stressing him out so badly. More than anything, you had wanted to stretch your hand out and hold on to his, to ground him in reality and let him know everything would be okay. From what, you weren’t sure. And why, you couldn’t tell. You just knew he was haunted by something in his mind. That tell-tale look of floating away from your own head all too familiar from the image reflected back at you every morning. 

His beat up chucks scuffed the floor and he had sighed too heavily. Those laces were tied together in an impossible knot, shiny bits of super glue catching the light here and there. The ends of those laces had been cut short, just above the knot and nub of glue. What a lazy guy, you had thought to yourself. He didn’t look at you once on the ride over. Didn’t comment on your constant staring. Or if he did notice, he obviously didn’t care. There was something more going on there that he wasn’t privy to speaking of. So you didn’t ask. 

But standing there, in the threshold of Undyne and Alph’s apartment, you could see the slight inclination of his head downward as Undyne lead him away to a back room. The stoop of those bony shoulders had you worrying incessantly about his well-being. Before you could think further on it, however, Alphys was tugging at the sleeve of what used to be Gaster’s sweater, an apologetic look on her face as she did so. The warm light from the hall caught on the rim of her glasses, obscuring her right eye from you. It felt… uncomfortable.

 

“We need to talk.” was all she had said. But it was enough to make your stomach bottom out in fear, her tone a touch too serious for your liking.

 

Papyrus was sitting in the living room as you walked past, ticking away on his cell. He didn’t look up once. You wished he would. Wished he could intervene. Prolong this moment, make sure you weren’t left alone for this. Hell, anything really.

But once that door to the guest bedroom closed behind you, you knew there was no avoiding it. Alphys asked you quietly to take a seat. You tucked yourself in a nearby chair, one facing towards the window. Scooting it around, you see her flick on the lamp light and pull out a stack of papers from within a drawer. The silence was stifling. Every second passing feeling like the steady inching of a knife drawing ever closer to your throat. You desperately felt the need to use the bathroom, but your legs refused to work once you had properly settled into the cushions.

 

It must have been a full six or seven minutes before she finally spoke, her tone flat and unfeeling. Alphys’ way of coping with something she was desperately uncomfortable with, you had come to learn during your friendship with her. Only ever used for serious projects, speeches and presentations, or scoldings. And judging by the information she was steadily spouting, you understood the need for it. How you wished desperately that it wasn’t needed.

 

Tenacity was an unstable soul power, she said. Neurotic by all accounts, and acted like a beacon of negative energy to the souls that surrounded it, be they monster or human. He shaky claws riffled through more pages, and pulled out several small pictures from a small envelope. They were headshots. Familiar face of people you had once known in the various work environments throughout your life. Some of those faces even belonged to family members, and your heart skipped and jittered violently the moment your eyes landed on them. The room spun briefly, your own now trembling hands shoving them back into hers. 

 

“I went through the personal files I had on loan from Sans and Gaster. And by loan… I m-mean that Gaster left a file here by accident.” 

 

“Why.” it wasn’t a question.

 

Alphys only took off her glasses with a resigned sigh, carefully seating herself on the edge of the bed to face you. “I don’t know how to tell  you this. So I’m just going to be as straightforward as I c-can possibly be.”

 

Newspaper clippings were placed on your lap. She moved away slowly, keeping her eyes on your face. You knew she was waiting for a reaction of some sort. You knew it was going to be unpleasant. You knew whatever was in those clippings would rob you of sleep for another month. You felt it. Gods above, you didn’t want to look at them. Didn’t want to read any of them. So you held her gaze for a few seconds longer, working your jaw, attempting to fill the silence with something. Anything, really.

 

“I-its best to let you read them on your own. I’m… I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

 

You tear your eyes away from her, the bold black print now the only thing capable of holding your attention. Those familiar faces stared back at you. Every last one of them with some tragic headline written above or next to it. Every instance one of violence. Of anger. Of pain. Two were attempted suicides. Three were assault charges. Your family… well, nothing there surprised you. You didn’t want to commit any more memories of them to your mind. So you skimmed, and kept flipping. The next stack beneath those, neatly clipped in the corner by a colorful paperclip, was more clippings. These ones more recent. Within the past year or so.

 

**Local mother to wed in orphanage she helped salvage!**

 

**Man saves family of three from fire!**

 

**Woman who loses everything finds new life in local food chain!**

 

All headings were an absolute 180 from the previous ones. The once angry mug shots and beligerant faces turned into sunny smiles, devoid of even the smallest hint of negativity. Like a honest to god miracle happened within the alotted time between the last four or five years. Hell, even your family seemed to be doing damn well, earning money out the ass. It was… strange. But you couldn’t piece together why Alphys was showing you these things. When you look up at her, a question in your eyes, she has her glasses off, neatly folded in her claws.

 

“Your soul acts like an amplification device. It hones in on the soul value power of those around it, and forces an extreme reaction of their disposition out of them. It amplifies, but in a more negative way.” She taps at the pictures as she goes through them. “Mrs. Vasquez:  _ Kindness _ . Clinging to it's ideals on how people ought to act towards one another, and directly persecuting anyone who is not willing to conform. Lenny:  _ Bravery _ . Starting fights with anyone he disagree with, or anyone he do not see as just. Ms. Do’cchio:  _ Justice _ . Calling anyone who is against the law evil, and will seek to eradicate them, regardless of their level of innocence.” 

 

She went through a few more, taking the top stack away from you and fanning out the remaining, more positive headlines.

 

“After your disappearance from their lives, the negative influences on their souls went away. Once it did, their souls seemed to be all the brighter for it.” you visibly flinched at that, and she grimaced. “I-I’m sorry. I know that isn’t a g-good way to put it. But it’s the data. I thought it was coincidence at first. But then I reviewed the information from the past month and a half from both my lab and the clinic’s. There isn’t any question. Tenacity, your soul value power, is actually a negative soul value. Only the second we have seen since coming to the surface. The first… well. Let’s just say it’s not something we talk about very often.”

 

You were reeling, your whole body slouching. A sickening cold creeping through your limbs, almost as if you were being dipped slowly into a frigid bath. There was no longer that steady ringing in your ears. Only heavy, dead silence in your mind as she spoke, her voice sounding miles away. You could no longer feel the impression of the couch cushion against the backs of your legs. Or the weight of your own body as you slowly stood from the chair.

 

Alphys didn’t move to stop you. Only tucked the clippings away safely and proceeding to finish her news. “My- our, main guess is that negative soul values exist to keep the balance in the world around us. Not everything can be a positive output. The world needs a negative output to ensure a steady line is drawn.”

 

“Like life and death…” you whisper.

 

She nods. “P-precisely. There is a balanced structure to everything. Tenacity, by it’s definition, has the job of maintaining the will to live, the need to preserve, to procreate, to survive and keep for yourself the shortest, easiest path. Every living creature is adaptable. But it is only those with a certain level of Tenacity to them that survive the longest. You were born with this soul power. Meaning it is not a different soul value that has been corrupted. That being the case, we… I-I mean it c-can’t…” she shakes her head, standing from her spot on the bed. “It might be hard to find a proper place for it in society right now. Y-you would need to bond with another soul to counterbalance it.”

You swallow, a sudden dry, sticky feeling in your mouth making your voice rasp slightly. “How...How do we find one to balance it?”

 

There is a pregnant silence. Somewhere down the hall, you hear the steady ‘Nyeh’s of Papyrus’ laugh as he watches some cartoon on full blast. Undyne’s own laughter joins in moments later, signaling the end of her conversation with Sans. It registers briefly in your mind that you might have been in here longer than you thought, judging by the time on the clock. You want to be out there with them. To be away from this tiny room. From the faces in those files. From the hell birthing itself through the cracks in your poorly held together sanity. But Alphys wasn’t finished. There was something more there. You could tell from the way she clicked her glasses back open and popped them on top of her snout.

 

“That’s the next bit of b-bad news. Y-you see, back in my lab, you… you, ah.” she fidgets. “Your soul has been in a state of neuroticism for so long, that it’s unknowingly forcing soul courtships on any compatible soul that happens to come in contact with it. Your soul is crying out. C-calling for help, so to speak. It w-wants to be stable. Otherwise it could-” she seems to think carefully for a moment before continuing, “it’s unhealthy to be unstable for too long. There are repercussions. And your soul, at the moment is trying to fix it.”

 

“It’s  _ forcing  _ courtship? But I didn’t-! I don’t want that! How can it do that if I’m not consenting to it??” you said.

 

“Your soul  _ is.  _ Even if your mind is  _ not. _ Since Undyne and I are already bonded, your soul doesn’t affect ours in that way. But any unbonded soul in close proximity could potentially be at risk. Which explains your past relations with family, friends, and coworkers.”

 

“So when you say unbonded souls, does that mean that I’ve- that my soul has… with the Doc? And Sans?”

 

She nods solemnly, placing a claw on your elbow. “It’s why we told Gaster to steer clear of you for a while. I’m sorry we never told you why. I’m sorry we didn’t explain. We really should have let you know sooner. But we couldn’t be sure of the data, and had to cross reference any information we already had just to be certain.”

 

“I’m forcing them. I’m making them act weird. They wouldn’t even do all the things they’re doing now if it weren’t for my…” you felt like you were going to be sick all over the goddamn carpet. You inhale slow, steady gulps of air, trying to push the nausea down. “So anything they’ve said or done in the past few days romantically is just the effects of me forcing that on them, then.”

 

Alphys didn’t respond. You didn’t need her to. Knew it was all a fucking sham. That everything, all of it was a goddamn lie. A lie you were creating in the hopes of finding someone to fix you. A miracle to come about and make everything normal for you again.

 

“I wouldn’t say that. It would cause them to be aggressive, t-to be certain. Not romantic. S-so anything they’ve said to you isn’t a direct effect of Tenacity.”

 

You went to say something more, but the world around you violently tilted to the left, and you stumbled to the adjacent bathroom, and vomited out what little bit of your sanity you had left into the toilet bowl, kneeling on the fuzzy yellow bathroom mat.

* * *

 

She had punched him. Clean on the teeth. He was sent reeling to the floor, stars blooming behind his eyelights as his had connected hard with the wooden floorboards. Of all the conversations starters he’s had with this fish woman, that had to be one of the most painful. And the most violent on her part. Not even in her training and sparring was she ever so steely-eyed when delivering a hook to the face like that. She hadn’t even waited for the door to click shut completely before turning on him, rage alight on her face. Those fins on the side of her head flicked and twitched angrily as she glared down at him. Not bothering to take another step or apologize. Just pinning him in place with a look that promised more if he didn’t comply.

 

So comply he did.

 

“What happened. And you better fucking tell me everything. I don’t want any running around in circles. I don’t want any more of this cloak and dagger bullshit. This is the second time _____ has been in danger because of your sorry ass. It wasn’t until they started working at that clinic that all this awful crap started happening. The common link in all cases has been you. So.” Undyne bent down, hooking a finger around his ribs and dragging back to his feet. “ _ Start. Talking. _ ”

 

Sans was damn lucky she hadn’t pulled his soul out and tried attacking that. He could take a hit. But if it were any harder than that, he would be dust on the floor and food for the vacuum, bits of him hanging with the dust bunnies under the dresser. It hurt like a sunofabitch, though. So much so that he had to cough and sputter for a few precious seconds before patting her hand so she’d let go. Undyne may be a touch aggressive, but when it came to this kind of thing, she wasn’t always brutal. She let go immediately, taking a step back to lean on the door. A subtle way of letting him know there was no way out. 

It was clear she loved you.  A lot. A whole damn lot to want to punch  _ Sans  _ in the teeth for not taking better care of you. Gaster wouldn’t get the brunt of this, since he only had to face her wrath once for being indirectly involved in the diner incident. This one? It was all on him. She knew he was downtown near Grillby’s from what Paps had probably told her after the big fight with Gas. Knew that something had happened at the clinic with the Doc that made him blow up at you. That made even Alphys feel disappointed. Undyne trusted him to look after you during all of that. And he hadn’t.

He just left you to walk away. Alone. And suffering. He couldn’t help but feel that punch was fully deserved. Justified.

 

So he took a seat on the floor and explained. Told her everything that had happened. The weird energy you emitted at the diner. The way your HP seemed to drain itself. Gaster’s assumptions of your soul, and his own hypothesis on what it’s effects could be. The mark on his eldest brother’s soul from an experiment gone awry. What you told him on the roof of your apartment, even the fight he had with you. (Leaving out the violence part, for obvious reasons). 

Sans told her as much as he could while protecting his privacy and your own. When he was finished, she seemed pensive, but satisfied. She didn’t ask any questions. Just tapped one sharp nail on her arm for a good long time before nodding and standing up straight.

 

“From now on, I’m assigning _____ a bodyguard from my own group of trainees whenever they have work at the clinic.” Sans opened his mouth to speak, (a painful gesture), but she silenced him. “Non-negotiable. If I leave them in your care alone or without supervision, something bad always happens. I am not about to let you fuck up my best friend any further. So until they get their working permit and placement, they are not to be let out of sight of a guard. I’ll inform your brother as well.” 

 

She opened the door, but stopped herself halfway. 

 

“I’m sorry for hitting you like that. But I’m angry. Really angry. And… scared. I don’t want to lose a friend that’s this close to me. We lost enough loved ones in the war a long time ago. I don’t need to see the death of another human friend at the hands of a tragedy. Whether self-inflicted, or accidental.” Undyne looked over he shoulder briefly. “_____… they’re not in the best of places mentally, you know? They need support right now. We have to be sure to be there to give it to them.” with that, she walked out, leaving Sans to process everything by himself.

 

He stood there, rubbing at his jaw quietly. Undyne had a point. He had known you weren’t exaclty alright upstairs in the noggin for quite some time. Just never touched upon it, since he wasn’t one to talk about advice or seeking help himself. That would put him in the place of a hypocrite. He understood he fucked up. 

 

He would make sure that he didn’t repeat the same mistake again.

 

* * *

 

It was well past midnight. Everyone having gone to bed. Papyrus had fallen asleep beside you after the fifth episode of some weird sitcom on netflix. Half of the snacks were gone, bits of popcorn littering the carpet just outside of the pillow and blanket nest. Soft snores filled the air between episodes. You let it run for a few more before clicking the remote to lower the volume and switch over to a science documentary. Something about space. Space was nice. Cool, even. Terrifying, yeah. But something about the planet you knew being so tiny in a vast sea of stardust and darkness really made you feel like your problems weren’t as big as you made them out to be. It was a comforting thought. 

The moon was out, bright and beautiful. It’s shape reminding you of a cheshire cat grin. If you squinted a bit, you could almost swear two eyes would pop out from the black, speckled starry blanket that surrounded it. The house was so quiet, save for the gentle ‘whoosh’ of the air vents just above you. The faint sound of crickets chirping could be heard far beneath the window near the couch. It felt so nice, being here. Papyrus’ weight on the blankets beside you made you feel safe. Comforted. Even the knowledge that Undyne and Alphys were a sleep somewhere nearby had your muscles relaxing in a way they never did when you were left alone. Still, your mind churned and whispered with the information Alphys had given you. There was a growing knot of anxiety steadily building in your gut the longer you lingered on those thoughts.

It didn’t help that Sans never came out of the room he and Undyne spoke in. You knew he was in there, from the tell-tale sounds of his obnoxious snoring and sleep mumbling. But he never came back out. Didn’t speak to you. Didn’t eat the pizza when it came, and didn’t even say goodnight. Either he was just too tired to do anything other than sleep, or there was something else entirely going on that dealt with whatever those two talked about. Curiosity didn’t win out in your mind this time, however. Instead, you dismissed it entirely, staring at the bones of Papyrus’ right leg where it stuck out from underneath the covers, dazing out. 

 

_ Bones. Stuff normally sitting underneath skin and muscle. Weird. Seeing it out like this. Warm and malleable, from the looks of it. Thicker than normal bone. Turning to dust when dead. Dead…. Death. That’s right. Paps asked me about… _

 

Your memory returns to the conversation with him not even two hours prior. He had carefully lowered the volume, letting the episode continue on in the background. He adjusted himself so he was on his stomach(?), leaning up on his elbows, a pillow tucked underneath his sternum. That skull of his held such a serious expression, the brow bone knitting together with obvious indecision and concern as his eye lights flicked over to your face out of the corner of his sockets.

 

“___?” he asked quietly. You nodded at him, letting him know you were listening. “Undyne told me today about… about why she was so scared the bridge incident. She told me that you falling in was scary. And that it made her worry about you getting hurt. But, um,” he fidgeted with his fingertips, “she said that if you had jumped, that would have really,  _ really  _ scared her. That it would have been much worse if you did.”

 

You had an idea of where this would be going. It wasn’t a conversation you were ready to have, or even one you wanted to address in a roundabout way right now. A silent prayer was offered up in the back of your mind, praying for Paps to drop it. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.

 

That prayer went unanswered. Just like many others before it. “When I asked why, Undyne told me that sometimes, humans can get really sick. But in the mind and soul. She told me it’s a sickness you can’t see. One not a lot of people know about until it’s too late. And it can make humans do something bad to themselves. Like throw themselves in rivers or force themselves to ‘fall down’. Undyne called it, ‘suicide’.”

 

“Yeah. It’s, um. Unfortunately pretty common amongst humans to do sad things like that.” You say carefully. “It isn’t always easy to see when someone is ‘sick’ in that way. Since there aren’t any real physical signs of it that are immediately noticeable.”

 

Papyrus didn’t say anything though. His fidgeting got much worse after a few seconds. Then he clicked the mute button and looked directly at you, the faintest glimmer of orange eyelights barely noticeable in the back of his sockets. 

 

“Did you jump, _____?” he whispered.

 

When Undyne asked, you were able to answer easily. When Papyrus asked, it felt like there was filth lining the edges of your soul. Your lies out in the open and whispering your sins into the air. It almost hurt to hold his gaze. You didn’t jump. Of course you didn’t. It shouldn’t be that hard to say it. Why did you feel so guilty, then? You flick your eyes to the left and right briefly.

 

“No, Paps.” you say quietly. “I fell in. I promise you I didn’t jump. My foot just slipped on the railing. I promise.”

 

There was a brief pause. “Did you think about it?”

 

Your heart stopped. A cold burn radiated from the center of your chest, spreading to the top of your head. Shit, your eyes were stinging. Why was it so damn hard to swallow?

 

_ No _ , you wanted to say.  _ Of course not! _

But you’d already made a habit out of lying to everyone. Would it really be any different to do it a third or fourth or hundredth time? Papyrus felt too close, his heat too imposing. The silence entirely too loud between you. Where was Undyne and Alphys, then? Were they still in the kitchen? You couldn’t remember. 

 

“No. I didn’t.” 

**__ **

**_ ____________________________ _ **

 

_***** You decide to lie to Papyrus. _

_**____________________________** _

 

There wasn’t a single sound. Not a breath. Not a hiccup. Not a huff. No clicks or sighs. No shifting of the sheets, or mumbling of words. There was nothing. Nothing at all. One minute. Then three. Then five. Nothing but silence. You didn’t move, your eyes glued to your hands, clasped together in your lap.

 

“Liar.” Papyrus said firmly. Softly… sadly. 

 

But he said nothing more. Just unmuted the television, moving a fraction closer to you, pulling the blankets over your head. The show continued to flicker and play on the screen, your face burning with shame. Guilt nesting heavily in your chest. It wasn’t something you wanted him to know. But Papyrus wasn’t an idiot. You wished you could have said the same for yourself.

* * *

 

To say he sped to Undyne’s apartment would have been a gross understatement. With how fast he was going, the streetlights along the road could have been a steady beam of light, rather than interspersed. He was pretty sure he balded the tires on his vehicle drifting a corner, and he nearly forgot to shut the damn thing off before stumbling out of the driver’s side door and out into the vacant streets. It was late at night. Too late for anyone to be awake at this time. Even Sans would have probably nodded off by now. He always did sleep better with company around. Gaster knew this from experience.

Despite this, he approached the front steps, ready to take the stairs two at a time. The phone in his hand was on half battery, boney fingers clutching hit hard enough to make the case around it groan with the force. He was so wrapped up in that goddamn letter that he failed to read the texts that poured in one after the other about your tumble over the bridge. He could swear he heard something in his soul crack at the thought of you perishing to those filthy torrents in this godforsaken city of forgotten souls. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was standing over a casket and wondering at all the what if’s that could have led to a better outcome. No, right now, he just needed to see if you were alright. If you were… if everything was…

He stumbled, his foot caught on the edge of the first step as he tried to run. His hand shot out, catching the railing before his face could make contact with the edge of another concrete step higher up. The soft sound of a snort had his head snapping up and locking on to the hunched figure sitting near the entrance into the building. The front porch light was out, only the faint illumination of the moon and a distant street lamp lighting up the area. But it was enough. He would recognize his own sweater even in the dark. It sat loosely on your frame, your knees tucked into it, hands clasping a glass bottle of something. 

 

“What’s up, doc? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” your voice is quiet. Subdued, almost. 

 

But he didn’t bother opening his mouth. Didn’t bother asking questions when he saw the shadows on your skin, the bruises hidden by the length of the sweater. There were no stairs, no phone falling from his grasp and tumbling down the steps towards the sidewalk. No horrid smelling liquid spilling from the lip of the bottle you held and splashing onto his shoes. There was only the glow of his magic, the green healing energy enveloping your body as he grasped your face, planting a kiss to that crown of messy hair. You were alive. Bruised and wounded, something he was currently trying to remedy, but still in one piece. You were shoving at his chest, yelling angrily about your drink. But if Gaster could be so bold, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about your drink. Or the fact that it spilled on his shoes. If you being alive and well meant you could keep yelling at him for another day, then he’d gladly accept it.

 

“Okay, okay! Jesus, doc! Chill the fuck out, I’m fine! You’re spillin’ the last drink they had in the whole apartment! And I kinda wanted to chill out here for a sec and enjoy it!” you take another swack at his arm. “Alright, alright! Off with you, old man!”

 

Old man? He ignored the way that stung his ego in favor of pressing a hand to your still pouting face. Most if not all of the bruising was gone. Even the small cuts still lingering on your arms and legs began to fade. All except…

 

“What are those marks on your wrists?”

 

You visibly pale, and shake the cuffs of the sweater loose, letting them flop over your hands. “Nothing.” you say. 

 

“It doesn’t look like-”

 

“ _ It’s nothing. _ ” The hard edge to your voice leaves no room for argument. So he leaves it be.

 

A wind blows by, stirring the messy locks atop your head, sending a few stray leaves to skitter across the concrete steps. The air still carries a chill to it, despite the early May weather. Northern human cities always tended to be colder around these months, he supposed. The railing behind him chilled his skin, robbing him of his warms. He refused to move, still eyeing you as you sipped from the bottle. Your entire countenance radiated something dark. Something heavy and sullen. It was as if your soul was tainted with the scent of worry. With the stench of trepidation. Every part of his soul wished to reach out to yours, hold it close and comfort it, but he refrained. He kept his hands locked at his sides, patiently waiting for you to speak. To engage or make a move to leave. Either way, he wanted to be sure you would be alright before deciding to head back to that mess of an office. And that-

 

_ The letter. That’s right. _

 

Dread coiled anew in his gut. He sucked in a sharp breath. Those dark eyes lifted to meet his, a brow quirking in unspoken question. Gaster didn’t answer, struggling to find the words that continued to flee from him. There were people coming to take you from him. Tear you from his grasp, from his life. Taking with them the idiocy that was your person. The snorting laughter at every bad joke. The constant sound of your voice ribbing him, or complaining about how god awful maple brown sugar granola bars were. Stealing the little bit of light that had only just begun to show in his static life. 

Somewhere in the distance of the city, there was a group of humans who decided you were not fit to exist in this society. The wind howled in his ears, a more powerful gust sending the hood of his jacket over his head with a flop. And oh, the smile on your face when he ripped it back off with a grumble. Even in the dim light, it made his soul flutter. 

Why? Why would they take this from him? Take you away from him? How could this be considered fair? How on earth could he possibly tell you? 

 

“Doc, you’re looking a little serious there. And it’s starting to worry me.” you kick out your leg, dirt crunching beneath your bare foot. “You… wanna talk about it.”

 

He swallowed thickly, lowering himself onto a step just below yours. Nothing could prepare him for this. How does anyone go about telling someone they care so deeply about, that their freedom as they knew it would be ripped from their grasp? What did all of this mean and why did he allow it to happen?

 

There was a hand on the side of his skull, a thumb tracing the crack just above his eye. “Gaster?” you whisper.

 

_ He couldn’t do it. _

 

You’re wrapped up in his arms, the bottle knocked free from your grasp, tugged straight into his lap, scrambling to regain balance. And his face is in your hair, breathing you in, holding you close, his hands firm on your waist, breaths shuddering from his chest. You were here. You were his, just for the moment. Just for a time. Just for now. Please, whatever powers listen, let him hold you here for just a little longer. 

 

_ Please don’t take them from me. Please don’t do this. Please. _

 

Warm fingers clutched at his legs, an angry shout echoing when you found yourself seated on his knees. You could yell at him forever. If it meant in this moment, you could be his and his alone, he would settle for it. Would settle for any little bit of time he got. Never in all his years had he felt such a powerful sense of loss, even while you still remained in his arms.

 

“Gaster, what the fuck?! Dude, chill! Give me a goddamn warning next time you want to-”

 

“Please.” it was a whisper.

 

You freeze. “What? Please what? Are… are you alright, doc? Seriously you’re starting to freak me out here. I-”

 

“Please!” He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, the chill of your skin, the rumble of your voice as you speak causing the ache in his soul to grow ever more persistent. “Please… don’t go yet.”

 

“What? I’m not... “ your arms wrap around him, your scent enveloping his senses. It nearly broke him when you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. It’s alright.”

 

Gentle fingers rub the back of his head soothingly, soft puffs of warm breath ghosting over the top of his skull. There was a need in his soul for your touch. A desire to be closer, to absorb you into his very being if it meant keeping you safe, keeping you from those scoundrels at HMRD. You didn’t know. He couldn't’ tell you. The truth would come out soon, he knew. It was only a matter of time. You had only a few more precious days of freedom left. Not enough…  _ Not enough. _

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish to tell you. I do. But I find myself incapable of-” 

 

“Hey, no, shush. It’s fine. I’m not about to force it out of you. Just tell me when you’re ready. Just, you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

 

“Talk to me.” he whispers against your skin. “About something. Anything. Let me hear you speak. For a little while. Until I am able to compose myself.” he presses a tender kiss to the center of your throat. “I don’t care what it is about. Anything. Anything at all. Please…”

 

Your arms hold him close, hug him tight. The night wind causing you to shiver against him. The gentle thrumming of your heartbeat a gentle, beautiful lullaby pulsing behind your ribs. You were not his to own. Not his to hold. But for this moment, he could pretend. Pretend no one in the world existed outside of this. He returned your embrace, sighing against you, as you began to speak.

 

“This might be that booze I was just drinking. Or maybe it’s lack of sleep. Maybe it’s neither of them, and I’m finally starting to get a little careless. But, let me tell you a story.” you lean your cheek on his head. “A story about the woman who birthed me, the man who never married, and the children who came before me. A story of where I’m from. And why I’m here now. Of how all of this came to be.”

 

* * *

 

The chairman sat, his hands folded neatly on his desk, observing the bustling city life below him from his large windows. The reports had come in from that monster scientist not an hour ago. And he could not hide his delight. This new human soul, the one he had to gain clearance to further experiment on, had such a unique power. Unique enough to give him just the kind of edge he needed in this arms race against the ever changing government around him. If he played his cards right, this new soul would lead him to everlasting  _ glory.  _

Head of this idiotic alliance now, and head of the new world tomorrow. All he had to do was make sure this ‘subject’ played their part accordingly. Of course, he was no idiot. Ethics rules heavy in the human way of doing things. (Well, within the public eye, anyway.) And if anyone caught wind that the HMRD forcibly enrolled a human in a particularly new and shady program, then the media would be all over it. Blasted mosquitoes with their cameras, always ready to find any fuck up they could from them. No, he needed a better way of doing things. A much more subtle form of strong-arming his way to get what he wanted. 

 

He pushed the call button on his desk with one finely manicured finger. “Ms. Haroldson.” a brief crackle of static, a feminine voice coming through the speaker. 

 

“Yes, Chairman Damon?” she sounded nervous. Good.

 

“I want you to send a fax to that idiot scientist working in the monster clinic in Hedgeworth.”

 

“Shall I write it from here, sir, or would you like me to send someone to the office for it?”

 

“I’ve already written it. Send someone in to retrieve it and be sure to look it over before sending it. We don’t need another  _ careless  _ mistake on your part. A second incident would do little good for your position at the moment.” There was a heavy silence on the other end. He took that as confirmation that she understood and cut the connection.

 

Yes, all he had to do was wait. Bide his time, and ensure that all the pieces were in place before he enacted his plan. And here he thought he’d be stuck working in this godforsaken office building alongside these heathens for the rest of his life! Monsters and humans as allies.  _ How disgusting _ . This little anomalie would be his one way ticket out of this hell hole, and up into the top tiers of an easy life. This would become a new world. And with that human’s power, 

 

_ He would become a god. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo boy. Things just aren't ever going to calm down for you! But there is a reason for it... ( >->)
> 
> Can I just say that the absolute outpouring of support from all of you peeps has me wanting to write MORE AND MORE??!! 
> 
> JUST FOR YOU GUYS, I HAVE A COUPLE OF JUICY BITS ALREADY WRITTEN OUT. EHEHEHEHEHEH. 
> 
> (It's mature for a reason folks.) But all in due time. 
> 
> Questions?   
> Comments?  
> Sacrifices?  
> Snacks?
> 
> Open up a can of tuna and chant the sacred mantra of the elven scuttle fish to summon me to your bathroom sink today!


	14. If Hope had a Name...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstory! This one is a bit shorter than the rest of them~  
> But the next chapter will most certainly make up for it! AAAAYYYYEEEE.
> 
> BE AWARE!!
> 
> This chapter had some upsetting themes of child abuse and a later part is a little graphic and has themes of body horror! I will put the indicated " *** " before and after the parts containing the graphic imagery. 
> 
> Be safe my dears, and enjoy the chapter!

 

“Stories we tell aren’t always happy ones. Not every tale of origin is a magical one. Sometimes, heroes, villains, people you come to admire and trust, can come from a background nearly everyone can relate to or be in touch with. Not every hero has a wondrous start in life. In this, there is no chosen one. No special ability. No Mary Sue to save the world, where their sacrifice can mean something.” Not really a happy way to begin, but every story started somewhere, right?

 

“If I were to give up my life for something,” you say with mirth, “my sacrifice would amount to very little. I don’t have a badge or a place or a name in this world that would show my worth or significance. In fact, if I were to die, I’m pretty sure that the only people to mourn that loss would be you, and probably everyone in that small apartment inside. The rest of the world would be none the wiser. Which is why I had a problem with you telling me that being your little test subject would benefit human and monster kind. We both know I would be a name lost to eternity if I had expired at any point during those experiments.”

 

Your gaze shifted to a point just past his head, the flickering street lamp illuminating a turned over garbage can just down the road. It couldn’t have been too late, since the neon lights from the convenience store were still on and flashing in your peripheral. This town was like a the outer edges of a forgotten prison. Dilapidated and broken, shambling souls wandering through and leading their lives in solidarity, in a world all their own. You may have joined that march nearly a year past, but it didn’t keep you from questioning it. Observing it and even finding yourself hating it with a bitter sort of passion. To think that the circumstances leading you up to this point in your life would put you in such a place. That isn’t to say a lot of those decisions weren’t yours. It was still a very unhappy turn of events nonetheless.

Gaster seemed to become aware of your stewing emotions, since a hand gently stroked the exposed skin of your leg softly. An unspoken question, a silent worry. You shake your head, letting out a sigh through your nose. It wouldn’t do to get lost in thought over complicated ideals. You shift in his lap, patting his shoulder.

 

“Got lost in thought there for a second. And I know I’ll keep doing that if I don’t try to pick a starting point. Let me try again. I’ll start from the beginning.”

 

 

“My parents were never really ready for children. And by parents, i mean mostly my own mother. She was never keen on the idea of children ruining her life, forcing her to forsake her own dreams and ideas for an ideal future of her liking to suit a squawking, selfish ball of needs. When my father got her pregnant with at least two more in as many years, she was already seething with rage over her lost future. She didn’t believe in killing another life, being the devout religious woman that she was. So she let us all live, much to her bitterness and distaste. My father was well aware of her standing and how she truly felt about us. He was stuck with us. Stuck providing for us. And hated it all the same. So whenever my mother took out that anger on us in any fashion she chose, my father made sure to be away from it all. Out of the house, or locked in the room with his music or tv on full blast to drown out our screams." Your tone was short. Clipped. When it came to stuff like this, you tried to keep your emotions as far away as possible. The more detached you made yourself from it all, the easier it would be. Like telling a story straight out of a book. Some weird, fucked up book. Like the ones you find in the back of the library.

No one can blame her entirely for the way she felt. I mean, my father did take her at a young age. Stealing her, even, from the future she desired most. Forcing himself upon her, even when he had a wife and family somewhere out there in the world that we had yet to discover. He was still married to her, you know, despite it all. Bad chemistry between them, apparently. He had four children with her. Much like my own mom. Four kids on either side and two women. That makes eight burdens and two angry harpies always getting at each other's necks.”

 

“The worst part about it? Instead of working together to be rid of my father, they started having a competition with each other. Seeing who was better. Prettier. More deserving of his attention and hard earned money. It was awfully pathetic to watch. Disgusting even. But then, what does a child know outside of what they are shown? What they are told?

I hated her, his other woman. His wife. I didn’t love my own mother either. Didn’t know what love was. I knew I desired her attention. Anyone’s attention. I needed something to validate me. To make me feel wanted. Loved. Needed even.

All I had known growing up was the brutality of my mother’s cruel and unusual punishments, the neglect of my father and then the soon to be abuse of my very own siblings. See, I was the quiet child among them. Not once did I complain under their hand. I just took it. Soon, all the children at school, even the teachers, would do the same. Target the quiet child in the group and lay them on the cross, so to speak. When you fail to stand at arms against your oppressors, it is amazing how quickly they turn to violence to exert power over you when they feel they have none in their own lives.”

 

You shake your head, sighing when you felt the marginal twitch and clench of Gaster’s fingers in the fabric of your sweater. If he was upset about this much, then it would do you no good to go into the details of that abuse. Best to just leave it as vague as possible, to save yourself the pain and save him the more gruesome bits. You place a hand over his, patting it reassuringly.

 

“I didn’t understand that abuse wasn’t love. I thought a fist to my face or  being locked in a dark room meant love in a certain sense. It didn’t feel right, but again. A child doesn’t know any better, now do they? Hopping straight from that point, the first time someone hugged me in grade school, I think I fell in love with that feeling. With that warmth. I had never been hugged before. And it felt nice. When I got hurt, and a substitute teacher worried about me, I loved that feeling. I played it up, wanted more. Pretty soon, I was hurting myself, faking injuries or sickness or purposely getting myself sick just to have them worry over me. Fuss over me. I loved it. I didn’t understand why. But I did. It wasn’t until one particularly bad night after losing the roof over my head a third time that I realized my faking certain things for attention might have been one of the single most selfishly disgusting things I had ever done to manipulate the affections of others. Over the years, I tore apart families, ruined friendships. Even practically decimated a marriage over it. I was begging for scraps at a table, finding a way to taint and destroy everything around me just to get it. Yet none of it was real. It was skin deep. Easily tossed about.  

None of them actually liked me. Loved me. They loved whatever version of myself I had to give. I ruined lives for something shallow and unreasonable. For that, I have no excuse. For that, I realized I was no better than a thief robbing others of their most precious things in life. And that made me feel like a monster. Lonely, even.”

“I, ah… During one of my years in a distant city, one maybe sixty miles out from Mt. Ebott, I committed a… a pretty awful crime. One no one else outside of those involved were privy to. One I’m not about to go into detail with you. I’m just going to tell you it was bad. It was something I wasn’t proud of. Something that still haunts me in my dreams to this day. And I did it all because of that idiotic twisted bit in my head.

I ran away. From the abuse of my family. From the sins of my self. From everything that made me into the monster I feared to look at in the mirror each and every single day.

So I packed up all my shit. Sold whatever I could, threw out the rest, and took the first bus out of there. I rode all night long. Hopping busses for two days straight until I was out of money. Stumbled through an alley and into this lovely dump of a town, saw an add in a local paper about some monster bar opening up, and hopped on it. Flash forward a couple of months, and I went from sitting out in the alley by the bar and showering in the bathrooms, to having my own place not even a mile from the subway station. I would tell you the rest, but well. That’s where the soul evaluation thing came about not long after monsters popped up on the surface. To be honest? I don’t think I even freaking noticed, with how far my own head was rammed up my ass at the time. Nearly had a damn heart attack when I saw that my would-be-employer was made of literal fucking fire.”

 

You pull back to look him straight in the face, holding him by the shoulders.

 

“I’m not even fucking kidding. Do you know I almost threw a whole bucket of water on the guy, thinking he was someone just calmly on fire? And don’t even get me started on when I got to know Undyne. Swore to god she was a Zora. I made that joke often. You know, from the video game-? Oh never mind. You wouldn’t get the reference. You don’t look like the video game type of guy. Anyway, at first I was shocked. Then I think I practically yelled, ‘you’re really hot for a fish chick!’ She thought I said fish stick and nearly clocked me for it.” You chuckle looking off in a different direction when Gaster doesn’t respond. You wanted to make light of the heavier topic, to crack a joke and cut the awkward tension building up around you. It wasn't often you talked about all of this baggage crap. In fact, you sucked ass at revealing things this personal to you. Making jokes was a good defense against it. Maybe if you made enough of them, no one would see it as something so serious.   
Dressing up the damage with a funny image- it's no wonder no one ever took you seriously when you wanted to talk about personal shit. The silence was stretching, tensing, like the feeling in the center of your chest. You begin fussing around with your fingers, picking at the blunted nails, shifting slightly. Would he just say something already? Jesus christ, this was beginning to be too much for you to handle.

 

His jaw was clenched tightly, fingers no longer gripping your sweater, eyes locked onto something at the bottom of the steps. The air was thick with a kind of tension you thought yourself to be ready for. It wasn’t often you told this story. And you even revealed the bare minimum of it. Broken. A bit of a fucked up little doll tossed aside as a failed scapegoat, and now a runaway convict, unbeknownst to those around you. Why you trusted Gaster with this information, you couldn’t say. Maybe you were tired of lying. Maybe the booze was catching up to you. Maybe you thought his disgust after the fact would be fitting punishment. Being shunned a way of repentance for the sins you had done prior to your escape here. Monster law might be a bit different than human law. You weren’t sure. But what you had done, all that you had done, was despicable, to say the least. Monsters were practically pure beings of mainly good emotions and intentions. And here you were, admitting yourself to be a conniving little demon.

You swallow thickly, the word vomit coming up with renewed vigor once your anxiety took hold.

 

“T-that’s not to say I don’t mean everything I say with you guys. I don’t fake any of that. I _do_ care a whole fucking lot, and I know that’s hard to believe, since I kind of just told you I had a chronic lying issue growing up. I know that it’s hard enough to deal with me without all of this baggage. And that I’m not the most sun-shiney person you’ll meet this side of town. You guys probably just put up with me cuz I’m a bit pushy, and stuff. Uh, but I mean… I didn’t lie to you guys! Well I mean I did about all the stuff before all of this, since it’s a lie of omission or something like that, but I meant about all of the stuff I said about caring about all of you! I do care, I do love everyone. I do want to be there, to help and...”

 

He still hadn’t made a single sound. Not a single move to indicate he was listening anymore. A deep feeling of unease sank itself into your bones. Your scalp tingled, that same, self-inflicted terror clawing its way behind your eyes, the world becoming a hazy view of neon and shadows in your sight. Things had been going well for a little too long. Ruining it was probably a good thing. Maybe it meant this world could go on without the selfsame lies you told each and every single day. Maybe them hating you now was best.

 

“...I just wanted to be seen for the progress I have made. For the good I have done. I didn’t want my mistakes to define who I am now. To determine who I would become.” you say quietly.

 

Strong hands suddenly and quickly lift you from your spot on his lap. There are those ghostly appendages of his, transparent bits of magic in the form of hands mimicking his own holding you firm under your arms and knees. You are neatly, albeit hastily placed upon the steps once more. Gaster rises quickly from his spot, not even sparing you a glance as he quickly stomps down the concrete steps and towards his car.

You don’t feel a thing. Not the cold slowly sapping what little warmth you still had left in your skin. Not the strong gust of wind whipping bits of your hair into your eyes. Not the wet droplets on your cheeks, plopping onto your bare knees. And not the muted sounds of your slowly breaking soul as the slam of the car door echoed and fell into silence shortly afterward.

 

* * *

 

 

His mind was reeling, his own soul throbbing painfully beneath his ribs from your words. You were stating it matter of factly. No direct inclination to what you were feeling as you told your story. Nothing there to tell him at all of what you truly felt or thought about all of it. You didn’t say. But he could feel it nonetheless. The agony and loss and feelings of loneliness radiating outward from the core of your very being. It whispered, over, and over, and over;

 

_Let me die._

_Let me die._

_Let me die._

_Let me die._

_Let me die._

 

It made him sick. Absolutely sick. That someone could wish themselves away so strongly without even realizing it. That you would think to vanish, think yourself lower than trash for being human. For simply being a living creature that makes mistakes, made him want to shake you. To grab you firmly and forcefully tell you that your mistakes, your wounds and your past did not, could not, define you. Every word coming from your mouth created a painful burn of magic in the air. One that spoke volumes of your opinion of yourself. Of your suffering. Yet your tone was light. Simple. Matter-of-fact in almost every way. His fingers clenched on your sweater, and you went to pat his hand. Even that felt empty. You were guarding yourself. Doing your best to make it seem as if none of this bothered you.

Stars above, he didn’t want to hear it anymore. The words tumbling forth from your mouth like a chanting mantra of condemnation you had suitably crafted for yourself. A living coffin weaving itself about you. Dousing the world around you, leeching the color from it. You spoke as if you had moved beyond the hell described over the years. Yet your soul… dark, and dim, and beating weakly… he finally understood why it was devoid of the proper levels of light he observed in other sould prior to yours in his lab. Why that weak pulsing was never got any stronger. Never changed its pace.

 

_You had given up._

 

For all it was worth, your soul was ready to be laid to rest. The familiar death throes of a heart nearing its end. Not unlike a monster fallen down after many years of life. His own stupidity, his own selfish and blind idiocy made him absolutely ill. He never put it together. Never thought once about what it could mean. In the beginning, you were just an experiment. Some average, unsightly, boring concept of a human being. Indistinguishable from a crowd of what he used to call fleshy heathens. Indeed, even now, your appearance didn’t speak much for solidarity or even uniqueness. You were as you had said many times before in passing. Average on all accounts, mediocre on others.

That did not mean your worth to him was such, as well. Gaster felt ashamed, seeing another living, dreaming, wishing creature as a tool to further his own selfish needs. Granted, it wasn’t something he could remedy, being the scientist that he was. Yet…

 

His fingers released the fabric of the all too familiar sweatshirt, locking his eyes on a trailing spiderweb between the railing at the foot of the steps. The world felt too large. Too cruel. Your soul too small and fragile beside his. You were here, in his arms, speaking of things too dark with a voice too light. Stars shone barely overhead against a light polluted sky. The wind carrying the distant promise of spring along the cold edges as it passed through the empty streets. Everything felt still. A stage being set, a fate being determined.

You were here. You were in his arms. You were a million miles away. And in seven days, you would be a million more further from his grasp. It hurt. Stars and galaxies and gods above, it _hurt_.

 

His entire life was a pathetic prelude to further imprisonment above their first jail they called ‘home’. Everything about his existence felt like satire. He had no reason to be kind to the demons that sealed him and his own kind beneath a fucking mountain. He had no reason to give. No reason to care. None at all.

SO then why? Why did his soul break at the thought of you being taken away from him? Why did it hurt so much to know that despite your ever constant cheer, beneath that smug grin, _you had completely and utterly given up an reason to exist?_

Those cold hands were now on his shoulders, shaking him, your voice filled with a hollow sort of mirth as you recounted your meeting with Grillby and Undyne. You were moving. Speaking. Everything spoken given a false sense of lightness that belied your deeper feelings.

 

_Let me die._

_Let me die._

_Let me die._

 

He broke. He couldn’t take it. Not like this. Not with you suffering behind smile that he had come to love so dearly. Tainted now, with the realization that you probably never felt it in your heart. That you never once believed any of them when they told you they loved you. Because you felt your own misdeeds meant that not a single living soul could actually feel that way towards you.

 

Ghostly hands lifted you from his lap, depositing you hastily back in your spot on the steps. There wasn’t any way he could compose himself after that. No way to hide the very things he wished to keep hidden. So he walked away, determined and set on his next course of action. There was the silent sound of a soul slowly breaking the further away he moved from you down the steps, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t chance a look back at you. Because he knew if he did, he would not be able to do this.

If you were to be taken from him, then he needed to be damn sure to maximise the time he had with you now. Everything else be damned.  

 

* * *

 

 

You thought he had left. The car door slamming signaling his departure. But the engine never turned over. The car never leaving its spot by the sidewalk. You were still choking back the lump in your throat, still trying in vain to hold yourself together when rapid footsteps approached you once more.

There was a whirl of fabric and white fur enveloping your body, everything going blank in your mind for a moment when you felt a mouth on yours. Warm, sweet. An electric shock in your chest startling you from your self-hatred long enough to register the face before you. There were dark tears pouring from those hollow sockets. Grey eyelights now a bright purple hue. He looked like he wanted to say something. Struggled to put whatever emotions wracked his being into words. There was a large stuffed animal in his arms. Round and impossibly fluffy. A small seal, it appeared. A blue bowtie just beneath it’s small snout. Bright and adorable button eyes stared back at you. Big and beautiful and soft. Much like the monster holding it. Neon lit up the side of his face not blocked by the large stuffed plush. When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper, wavering and unsure. But still strong with his intent.

 

“Our backgrounds are the echoes of our foundations. Nothing more, and nothing less. Who we are now, is what matters most.” Gentle fingers pushed the hair from your eyes. “We are not our mistakes. They may follow us, might even make us decide for ourselves that we are unworthy of the kinder things around us. But that does not mean it is true. I know you don’t believe me now, maybe you never will but-”

 

Shit, his voice was cracking. His whole face crumpling with the weight of whatever grief he was feeling. The stuffed seal was dropped beside you, his hands cupping your face, pulling you closer, pressing his forehead to yours. The tears wouldn’t stop. A sob tore itself from your throat. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move away from his hold. His very being radiated his desire to hold you, to be there for you, to give you the validation you needed. Craved, even. It hurt. It hurt so much to be so close. To hear the strong pulsing of his soul, your own crying out in response. Gaster took a steadying breath, thumbing away uselessly at your tears.

 

“But believe me when I tell you that you might be one of _the most_ annoying humans I have ever come across. And at one point I thought to be rid of you quickly to save myself the headache. And yet I find I am incapable of ever wishing you further from me than you are right now. I want, more than anything, for you to be near me. To be ever complaining at my side, telling me not to be so serious about whatever trivial matter you have come up with. To be as close to me as you are now.” his voice cracked, more black tears pouring down his face. “Always.”

 

You shut your eyes tight, everything in your soul caving, breaking, mending, burning and crying out at his words. Nothing should feel this agonizing, this freeing. Every word you wanted to tell him fell apart in your mind. Your own hands fly up to his cheeks, wiping away the wetness there, pulling him close to place a kiss to the crack just below his eye. The soft smell of his cologne filled your senses, the world blocked, fading, so that only he filled it. Nothing else mattered.

You had tried so hard to hide it all. To pretend that everything inside was something you could avoid forever, if you simply deluded yourself hard enough to make it all disappear. But here he was now, standing before you. Someone who saw you for who you were. For all that you had become. And still wanted you in his life.

Every day of your life, you had convinced yourself that it was okay to be hated. That you could deal with the pain of their disgust. That you were capable of shouldering that burden. But here, now, bearing your heart and soul out in the open, your entire being cried out with the wish to be accepted. To keep being friends with Undyne and Alphys, to talk and have breakfast with Sans, to make pillow forts and watch cooking shows with Papyrus, to go and talk about pointless things with Grillby while cleaning dishes, to do your best to make new friends and find a place to belong in all of this. To shed the skin that bore the mask holding you in place for so long. It hurt so much to think you could lose it all. But this.

This gave you so much hope.

Maybe, just maybe, if Gaster could accept you, could hold you despite your sins, despite your scars, maybe everyone else could too?

You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his jacket, allowing yourself this moment of weakness, sobbing loudly, pitifully, against him. Gaster didn’t miss a beat, pulling you close, placing another kiss atop your head. He murmured words of encouragement and endearment. Time passed with the two of you simply holding each other tightly crying against one another. It wasn’t until the first barely peeking light of dawn lit up the sky that you separated.

You hastily wiped at your nose and eyes, ready to apologize for dirtying the front of his coat. It looked damn expensive, now that you got a good look at it. But he wouldn’t relinquish his hold on you when you moved back. Instead, he wiped a few more tears from your face before lifting you into his arms and walking carefully down the steps. Once you felt you were on the sidewalk, he set you down slowly, opening the door of his car and gently ushering you inside.Given how utterly drained all of that left you, you were in no condition to argue or question it. You slid into the passenger seat, shivering.

He shut the door, picking something up from the ground, snagging the stuffed animal from where it fell on the steps and moving around the car to the driver’s side. He shoved the fluffy thing in your arms, patting your head affectionately.

 

“Both Undyne and Sans will have my head for stealing you away like this. But I think they can forgive a morning breakfast and some afternoon company.”

 

“I don’t have… any shoes or pants.” you murmured into the white fur.

 

He only smiled. “Shame, that. I suppose I’ll simply have to buy you some.” the incredulous and somewhat confused face you gave him pulled a soft chuckled from him. “I’m an old man looking for someone to dote on. Humor me for a bit, will you _____?”

 

Your soul felt raw and exposed. Your throat scratchy and sore from your crying fit. It was as if someone had taken an ice cream scoop to your insides and left you hollowed out and feeling too light for your liking. Yet, you couldn’t fight the smile forcing its way on your face. You hide it as best you can against the large stuffed animal, nodding.

 

“I guess so… but only because I ruined your jacket.”

 

“I’ll take it. Guilt driven or not.” he turned on the car, quickly and easily pulling out of the area and out onto the still barren roads.

 

The further away you drove from Undyne’s apartment, the more your heart filled with that strange and warm feeling. Your entire chest feeling like it was filled to the brim with some tender, unseen emotion. You reach a hand over, gently clasping his. The way he squeezed your hand in his seemed to make it grow impossibly more.

 

“Thank you.” you whisper.

 

His only answer was to place a warm kiss to your cold fingers. It was enough. The world passed by outside the window. The events of the night slowly being left behind the more the sky lit up with the oncoming morning. This wasn’t a cure-all. This wasn’t the end of your struggles, you knew. But being able to live like this, breathe like this, even feel like this; it was enough.

Miracles didn’t happen in real life. But maybe this is as close as it got. Maybe this is what it felt like. It was a long road ahead to recovery and fixing your mistakes. Healing would take a long, long time. But being here, now, next to all the people you loved the most, you were sure you could make it.

 

You had all the time in the world to do so, after all.

 

 

* * *

 ********************************************************************************************

It wasn’t surprise that drove this sudden desire to shriek with a mortal terror he was unfamiliar with. No, it was something more. Something far more frightening than that. It was a memory. A sense of dread creeping up on him the longer he lingered in this place. Something that ripped from him any sense of reason he had left. Taking with it his last remaining shred of hope in this reality. There it was, staring back at him. Like a dead corpse hung from an invisible thread. A fleshy meat puppet smirking with a sick satisfaction as it murmured in a demonic whisper of a voice. It was hell. Skin twisted and torn, grin pulled too far, too wide, too tight against that small and familiar skull. It was twisting bone gurgling and crunching beneath the surface of white and rotting skin.

*********************************************************************************************

It was his own sibling. Ready and willing to defile this world once more. It was something he wasn’t ready to face a second time in his short life.Everything spun and screeched all around them. Locked in a small world that was slowly, steadily becoming more hellish in its appearance the longer he lingered. It couldn’t have been possible. Not here, not once it was all said and done and the barrier was broken.

But it was. There was nothing in the world that could help him deny it now. Nothing at all. The corpse of their long dead sibling seemed to laugh, a rumbling chuckle that sent bits of gurgling black blood spewing to the ground below their hovering form. Words, echoing and omnipresent in every sense, soaked through his mind.

 

“ **_The time has come again. My return to this world is nigh. One more vessel to add to the rest. The two of you were a nuisance. A sobriety of my past self now undone by the beauty of villainy in this new world. The lustrous glow of their hatred, their malice and greed is a wonderful aroma to awaken to.”_ **

 

This was a nightmare. It had to be. None of this could possibly be real.

 

**_“You were a useless lot to rely on. Thought I have to admit, my thanks is in order, since it was your idiocy that allowed me to be properly released from that diminutive world of yours. There is new life, up here. Willing. Capable. I will rule over it thusly. But not before I give myself a proper introduction.”_ **

 

He felt sick to his core. His soul screaming out, attempting to rip itself apart at the sheer denial of this being still existing beyond their tiny home.

 

“Y-you-!” he finally found his voice. Small and seemingly insignificant in its volume, but the creature inclined its head curiously, nonetheless. “Y-you have n-no power up here! Resets don’t work on the surface! The power of Determination is useless to you now! So… so why are you..?”

 

It laughed. Loudly. Menacingly. **_“Oh, I know this very well, you little insignificant moron. However, I do not seek the power of determination. I do not seek the power of resets. No, I have a much bigger idea in mind. Now, don’t look so perplexed. I’m sure this new world will suit a soulless husk such as yourself. In fact,”_ ** the mangled corpse of Chara hovered ever closer, **_“As an act of good will amongst heathen such as ourselves, I’ll give you back the soul of your sibling. It was a burden not unlike a useless tool left to rust in my arsenal.”_ **

***************************************************

Chara was tossed to the ground before him, the entirety of the world fading to black around him once that _thing_ released its hold on them. Soulless, empty black sockets stared out at him, dried and blackened blood running down their once rosy cheeks. Bits of their skin sloughed off where the hairline began. Their deep burgundy locks falling away to reveal white bone beneath. He was close to hyperventilating. If he had a stomach, he’d puke. He was dimly aware of something twisting, undulating somewhere in the depths of the darkness surrounding him.

 ***************************************************

**_“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Chara and Asriel Dreemur. Thank you for my newfound freedom. When next we meet, I will be sure to give you an everlasting death. Why the look of fear? At least you will no longer be stuck in this form of limbo. Rejoice!”_ **

 

**_* Y O U  W I L L  S O O N  B E  F R E E ._ **

 

Flowey woke with a scream ripping itself free from his throat. The fading visions of his nightmare slithering at his peripheral as he struggled to focus his gaze on the clock just above Frisk’s desk. Three in the morning. The multicolored display seemed entirely too cheerful. It took on a menacing feeling the longer he stared at the offending thing. Still, he kept his eyes on it. Focusing, breathing slowly, steadily. As much as he was capable of, anyway.

He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep, and couldn’t remember when. Something shifted, and he whipped around in a blind panic to find Frisk standing inches away from him, face betraying the terror they felt. Something was wrong. They knew it. Could feel it. He did too. This was something they both knew well. The underlying notion of dread soaking itself into every little atom of the universe. The proverbial tolling of the bell echoing in the distance that signaled the beginning of the end.  
His leaves began quaking with fear. Frisk picked up the flower pot he sat in and brought it close to their chest. Their entire body shook with the same tremors. He didn’t need to ask. It was obvious they had a nightmare along similar lines to his. Whatever that thing was, it was out there. Roaming free, ready to destroy the world as they knew it. Flowey looked up at Frisk’s tearstained face. He knew what the answer might be, but he asked anyway.

 

“Save files..?” his voice was a hoarse whisper.

 

They shook their head, indicating the corner by their bed where a now greyed out save star resided. Resets didn’t work up here either. And loading the save file from the day before would do very little to help them now. If something happened, they might be able to go back to this point, which could be an advantage. His mind raced with the possibilities, both good and bad. Rethinking the dream again and again-

 

“W-wait! That thing said something about Chara?”

 

Frisk looked surprised, setting him down to sign something briefly. ‘It let them go?’

“I, uh. I mean it said it did? I didn’t see their soul anywhere in the dream though.”

 

‘Maybe it left it where Chara was last? It didn’t take it with them after they left in my dream. Can you sense it anywhere?’

 

Flowey closed his eyes, doing his best to calm the rapid, pulsing fear of his soul. There, in the distance, faint but still noticeable, was the telltale hum of Chara’s soul. Confused and weak. But still there. He turned to the source, opening his eyes. Frisk followed his gaze, their small fists clenching.

 

“Mount Ebott.” he breathed. “Well. Can’t say I was expecting this to be an easy march.”

 

Frisk moved to open the window, staring out at the peak of the mountain over the city buildings. It wasn’t nearly as ominous or looming out here in the human cities, but it was still large enough to see, even from so far away. There was no other way around it. If they were going to stop this thing, they needed all the help they could get. Starting with Chara, and then moving on to whomever else Frisk deemed helpful or worthy. Flowey would help them with that later. Right now, only Chara mattered. Only that confused soul calling out for his.

 

“You ready for one last adventure through the underground, Frisk?”

 

They wordlessly nodded, moving to dump their backpack and fill it with provisions. A hastily written note on the bed and an empty room would certainly send Toriel into shock. But they had no other choice. That _thing_ was the epitome of evil, and even sought to murder him when he unknowingly helped it, thinking that walking corpse to be the living, breathing reincarnation of his long lost and dearly loved sibling. Vile, and cruel creature that it was, it even used his name once, the cold and burning sensation of that knife stabbing him repeatedly forever seared into his memory.

It needed to be stopped. If first hand experience was anything to go one, the sooner they started this, the better. The clock was ticking. Who knows where that thing would begin it’s descent into destruction first? Neither of them really wanted to know. Once he successfully retrieved Chara's soul, he would need to pay a visit to a particularly special bit of garbage. One he wasn't keen on speaking to.

Maybe that smiley trashbag would have some kind of knowledge of this entity, if they were lucky enough. He'd take Frisk alone, just in case. That jerk was known to dust him on sight if he didn't have an escort with him. Grinning skull be damned. That skeleton was a reaper in waiting, even on his good days. Flowey shuddered at the thought, shaking himself and settling his attention on the the task at hand. Best to cross that bridge when they come to it, for now, there were more important things to be done. A whole world to save. And for once, he wasn't this timeline's antagonist. Odd feeling, that. But one he couldn't say he outright hated.

 

* * *

The world stuttered. Everything rendering in an odd way before his eyes as he slowly peeled them open. Something wasn't right. It wasn't the room he was in, nor the fact that he had somehow found his way to the floor in his sleep. It wasn't the stillness of the apartment itself. Or the way quiet murmurs began to pick up in the hall outside his door. He didn't seem to find it in oddly subdued tone he picked out to be Papyrus', either. No, it was something else. Something  _bigger._

The early morning sunlight dappling through the curtains, alighting itself on the furniture about the room... felt  _wrong_ somehow. Like everything was off kilter. Slightly to the left or to the right. A lingering sense of malice to those bits of glowing yellow that touched the clock just above the doorway. It was a mockery of peace. A sort of facile mimic of a hopeful reality, if he could be so pessimistic. It was familiar though. Too familiar. The last time he had felt something like this, a genocide followed soon afterward. If that were the case then why were they not back in the underground? Genocide meant somebody was staring up the 'game' again. Re-doing the threads of fate in the universe they inhabited. Replaying a moment, an idea, a path.

But nothing here changed. It was still the expected day, on the expected hour, on the surface. Yet there it was. That feeling of withering hope and dark foreboding. Everything echoed with its presence. The presence that to this day, haunted his every dream. Once, it had worn the skin of the Dreemur child. Touting itself to be Chara when last they met in the judgement hall. That thing had been atrocity incarnate. Every last bit of malevolence an entity could hold dripping from it's stolen fingertips as it waved a knife high above his head, delivering that killing blow. There was no mistaking it. 

 _It_ was back. Quite possibly searching for a new host. Hungering for more genocide. Bloodthirsty and probably bored from it's time in whatever hole it squatted in up until this point. In their tiny underground world, it had been easy to pinpoint the direct cause of its birth and origin, figuring out the direct cause of its appearance. But here? Up on the surface? There were too many factors. Too many things that could have triggered it to resurface. Piecing it together this time and finding a good solution to sending it back to hell might prove to be improbable.

Sans pulled himself up from the floor with a groan, pulling his phone from its place on the nightstand. Thank the stars for whatever bits of paranoia were left in him. He still had his lab and equipment set up over at his house. Picking up the trigger for this might be impossible on his own, but if he could check the sensors, eliminate probable cause, and root through the remaining factors, there just might be enough information there to fix this. But first, he needed to speak to someone who had enough experience with this being to of viable use to him. The idea didn't sit well with him. But if they wanted this done quickly, then time was of the essence. 

 

He needed to see a special kind of asshole flower to get some answers. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENS. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, peeps! Gimme your emotions and shouting and guesses!
> 
> Questions?  
> Comments?  
> Concerns?  
> Sacrificial offerings? 
> 
> Hug a fluffy stuffed animal while dancing to "La vida Loca" on the third hour of the night to summon me to your closet today!!


	15. Burnt Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. 
> 
> (Sorry for the lack of update last week. Job and finance troubles! Needed to get all of that sorted out. I'll do a double update this week. Currently working on the second one!)
> 
> Enjoy, peeps.

The coffee was bitter, with a slight burnt taste to it. You bit back a grimace as you settled into the seat, head pounding from the intrusion of bright light in your eyes. The cafe was thankfully and blessedly dim, but the dawning light from the window seat you had slid into was beginning to give you a migraine. So much for doing your damndest to keep yourself awake long enough to make it to the afternoon with the doc. He seemed adamant, though, in taking you out of Undyne’s apartment and out on the town for… whatever it is he wanted to do.

The guy mentioned buying you clothes because you were in pjs and rocking bare feet out in the goddamn night, but Gaster failed to realize that literally no clothing stores were open at ass-o-clock in the morning. He had swung by his place briefly to snag something suitable. And by suitable, that meant him dragging out yet _another_ oversized sweater to plop on your lap and then sit outside a small boutique in the downtown area until it opened. So here you were now, in a new pair of jeans and combat boots, still left untied on your feet, sitting in a small and quiet cafe, rubbing at your tired eyes. Your fingers were cold against your lids, your body attempting to shut itself down entirely. Sleep was a fickle mistress, but not when she was ready to bludgeon you to death over the head, threatening to make you faceplant straight onto the tacky looking black and white faux-marble table in front of you.

There was soft conversation floating over from the front end of the store where Gaster silently thanked the man handing him the two more ceramic mugs of blessed life juice. He made his way over to you in an awkward shuffle. That purple-black tongue of his poked out of his mouth briefly as he attempted to keep the liquid from sloshing over the edges of the mugs. You snorted, despite yourself. That was a little cute. Part of you wanted to just take the drink from his hand and dump it straight into your eyeballs. Anything at all to keep you awake. But you opted for the courtesy to let him set them down comfortably on the table first before seizing the piping hot refill and slurping it up loudly.

 

Gaster made a face, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize you were that tired. Had I known, I wouldn’t have been so, ah… _spontaneous_ about this little adventure.”

 

“Is that what you’re calling it?” you sniff. “I think adventures tend to have more of a grandeur sort of feel to them than lumbering around town half dead on your feet, don’t you think?”

 

He smiled. “All adventures begin with the unexpected, though. Is that not always the case in most stories?”

 

“If that’s the case, then this adventure sucks ass. Where the hell are my ten foot tall baby dragons and my throne? At least give me some fucking magical gnomes to punt around.”

 

“Now that is hardly a kind gesture to a magical creature.”

 

“Wonder what sound they make when you kick them? Maybe a squeaky toy sound. You know the one.”

 

Gaster did his best attempt at a serious face, but sputtered a bit on his drink. You felt a grin pulling at your face when he set down his mug and cleared his throat, attempting to hold back a chuckle. “Drink your refill. I think your lack of sleep is turning you into more of a maniac that you normally are. No, don’t give me that look. Go on, drink it. I know you have some other ridiculous remark ready, but I’d much rather have you coherent enough for this next bit.”

 

Next bit? What did that mean? Did the Doc have something else planned for the day? He better be damn sure to wait until this caffeine kicks in or he’ll be dragging around a half dead adult human corpse. It was one thing to yank you from Undyne’s. It was another entirely to yank you from her place and then proceed to have mundane adventures. Not that you were against it. You hadn’t really spoken to or hung out with the doc since-.... Since…

 

“You know, I was thinking of paying a quick visit to the clinic to grab something quickly. If you’re up for another ‘adventure’, that is. Though it feels pretty ridiculous to call it that. Something so mundane, and all.”

 

_Shit, that’s right. The last time I was around him, I was practically fucking half naked and pinned to a wall. Preeetty sure the Doc had a hard-on, as well. Wait… how in the hell does THAT work? Isn’t he bone, like Sans? I mean, he looks like it._

 

“I must admit, this is a bit unusual for me. I do not recall ever being this impulsive. Perhaps Sans’ bad habits coupled with your horrendous influence have finally ruined me. I believe my reputation as Royal Scientist is at its end. That title met its death at the hands of a practical maniac and a reincarnation of a sloth in a pile of bones.”  Grey pinpricks of light gazed out at the slowly waking city life, an amused chuckled bubbling from his chest.

 

Gaster’s jacket was neatly hung on the back of his chair, his dark sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked so casual, laid back even. This side of him was all at once unfamiliar and strange. The line of his shoulders didn’t seem as tense as it usually did. That scowl that seemed to constantly haunt his features nowhere to be found. Even the steadily growing, harsh morning light filtering through the cafe’s blinds added a softness to him that seemed all but hidden the weeks leading up to this moment. If ever anyone said to you that this monster could be without resting bitch face for even a moment, you would have called them out on such bullshitery.

Yet here he was, calm. Relaxed. Sitting in the seat opposite of you without the air feeling too constricting or dense around your head.

The slight warmth from his knees where they barely touched yours suddenly stuck out in your mind. You could see the tips of his shoes if you glanced down. His legs were so long. Did he always wear the same shoes? That fashion sense spoke of someone who cared a great deal about how they carried themselves in public. If you shifted slightly, you could lean your leg against one of his. Not to mention this table was fairly small, and his hands, now neatly folded atop it, were only a few inches from your own.

Did you want to hold them? Did you want to get closer to him? You hardly knew much about this monster. It was only recently that you got to know him. Got to get closer to him. But Alphys _did_ tell you that your soul was force-starting a weird courtship. Gods, the thought made you sick inside. The painful throb of terror and worry and self-hatred all bubbled back up again. It wasn’t as if you could stop the process either. That flower fella had warned you against it. And the last thing you needed was a monster going nuts on you after a fucked up, slightly forced soul courtship. Did Sans or Gaster actually _want_ you in a romantic way? Did _you_ want _them_ in that way?

 

“_____? Are you alright? You haven’t produced a witty comment in over two minutes.”

 

_Come to think of it, I’ve been in a weird number of awkwardly intimate moments with not just Gaster, but with Sans as well. I don’t think I’ve ever directly reciprocated any of their advances except for that, uh, time in the hall._

 

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep while sitting up? Now there’s a feat.”

 

_Did you feel any particular way about either of them? You didn’t necessarily have any love interests outside of them. In fact, you had close to no contact with other humans outside of this steady growing group of monsters. Was that a bias? Were you being at all fair to them?_

  


Something warm and smooth touched the knuckles of your right hand. You don’t react to it, just drag your eyes up to meet his, feeling your mind whirl with uncertainty. That smile seemed to slowly fall and fade into a look of concern the longer the silence stretched. It wasn’t like you were doing this on purpose. You didn’t want to kill the mood or ruin the moment. But there was a cog stuck in your head, all speech forgotten the longer you stared at him until there was a glowing halo of an after image anytime you moved your eyes even a fraction to the left or right of him. You wanted to say something. Open your mouth and let the atmosphere around you breathe. Gaster’s fingers were creeping up on your wrist.

 

“_____?”

 

_I don’t know if I love you in that way._

 

What if the world itself faded from this moment? What if every single one of your thoughts flew out the grimy window off to your left? What if, for a moment, you could pretend that your sins didn’t define the body that presented itself as ‘you’ before this monster now? What would you say? What would you do? If you had the moment and the power to dictate what you could and would do in this moment without any form of tethering to your heart and soul, what words would find themselves in your mouth, you wondered.   
Sitting here, in this uncomfortable chair across from someone you never thought in a million years you could fall for, ready and willing to trade in the time of day just to be near him for a while… well, you realize there is probably a lot you would do. The real question here, is how you felt about it. It wasn’t any real secret that perhaps there was some form of attraction or another to the shorter of the three skeleton brothers. Given enough time and patience, there certainly was a lot of potential there. Potential you were sure would evolve into something powerful over the years. Still, there wasn’t any denying how your own soul reacted when the doc was around. So if you were given the chance now, to decide without bias, without fear, without malaise or regret, what would you decide?

 

He’s looking so concerned now, his distal phalanges stopping just inches away from the hidden, dark circle of skin about your right wrist. Frozen, it seems, the longer he stares into your face. There is a quiet rumble vibrating through the walls as a large truck passes by out on the street. A dull hum of the overhead light hanging just above. And the ever faint, but unmistakable pulse of his souls thrumming against the ribcage beneath that sweater of his. Something in your chest pulls. There are words hidden in the crevices of your heart that you swear on your life you could burst from. That you wished you could voice this very second. But the longer his fingers lingered, the longer your mind wandered, the more uncertain you became.

 

_Just… what am I doing when it comes to you?_

 

The honest answer was that you didn’t know. Couldn’t know. No real secret that you might be a little loose with your affections after years of being touch-starved and lonely. Nearly every attempt at flirting or even slightly questionable physical contact was met with a willingness that surprised even you. There was no real answer when it came to Sans and Gaster. You took whatever kindness and comfort you could get from them. Perhaps that made you a less than savory individual. Perhaps it didn’t.

You had no real answer about your own feelings and intentions towards them. If you didn’t figure it out soon, this would all become pretty goddamn messy later on down the road. Your eyes burned. Shit, how long were you staring? Did you remember to blink at all? Judging by the slowly growing frown on the doctor’s face, you guessed you hadn’t. He looked a little spooked.

 

“At the risk of sounding a little unorthodox,” a dark purple tongue darted out to lick his lips, “ _you’re startin’ to freak me out. Say somethin’, or I’ll think you had a massive internal stroke._ ”

 

You blink. And then you laugh. Loudly and without control. Gaster looked taken aback, flinching slightly at the outburst and casting a quick sideways glance at the front register in case someone may have been watching. Thankfully, no one was. It was still quiet in the tiny cafe. Still no one but the two of you occupying the front end with no one else to bear witness to your temporary lapse in sanity.

You wipe the tears from your eyes and exhale deeply.

 

“What was that?” you say between a few chuckles.

 

“What was what? And could you please watch your elbows? You almost knocked over your mug. I don’t want to have to pay for that as well.” he was pouting. You could tell from the way he pointedly ignored your gaze.

 

“Your accent! What the hell was that? You lapsed into some wierd… I don’t know! I’ve only ever heard you talk like some weird Harvard grad or something. But _that_? You almost sounded like Sans!”

 

“I assure you I said nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

“No, not what you said. The _way_ you said it! Oh man. And here I thought you only had one actual way to speak. I thought you spoke to your breakfast with that level of careful etiquette.” you reach for your mug. “Does that normally happen? Do you normally talk like that?”

 

He shifted around in his seat a bit, adjusting his sweater along the front and clearing his throat. There was a slight purple hue along his cheeks. The poor guy looked more uncomfortable than you’ve ever seen him. That was certainly unexpected. Gaster had almost sounded like some laid back street boy for a split second. Really, with the way he was dressed now, comfortable and more relaxed than you’d seen the ghoulish bag of salt in a while, it kind of suited him. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t warm you a little when he spoke that way. Maybe you had a thing for accents? Or maybe you just had a thing for stiffs like him showing a hidden side to them.

 

You hide another chuckle behind the rim of the now luke-warm ceramic mug. Gaster doesn’t seem too pleased and continues fiddling around with packets of sugar on the table. Even going so far as to empty one right then and there. Poor guy. Maybe you could change the subject? Make it a little easier on him?

 

“I, ah… _I-I don’ normally talk like this outside of work. Nothing really too professional about it, yeah_?”

 

Ooooor not! He was blushing harder than ever, covering his mouth with his hand, browbone pinched with self-conscious worry. You decided you liked this. Very, _very_ much. Fuck, this was cute. Okay, okay. So maybe playing into this a little further wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe you could get him to say more shit like that. You set the mug back down decisively and wiggle in your seat, folding your hands neatly on the table in front of you.

 

“Say more shit.”

 

“Wh-”

 

“Don’t care what. Just say more shit. Um, okay wait. Tell me about a time when you were little.”

 

“I don’t really remember much about-”

 

“No no no! NOT with the Harvard tone! Use the other one. Go one. Talk! Oh don’t give me that look. I’m finally starting to wake up. YOU were the one who dragged me out here, so you might as well give me at least this much!”

 

It was quiet for a few tense seconds. “ _What, you din’ think the bear was enough, huh_?”

 

You thump your hands excitedly on the table and lean forward. “Yes! That one! Use that accent, doc! Go on. One story about when you were younger, and I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

 

Gaster cleared his throat and pushed the mug off to the side. Nervous fingers still continued to pluck sugar packets out of their container and empty them onto the steadily growing pile on the table, however. Stars and galaxies and gods above. You could just jitter around with laughter at how awesomely embarrassed and cute this one intimidating doctor looked!!

 

“ _There isn’t much I remember about being young. My memory is a lil’ fuzzy. I do, ah, remember being on the surface back then, though. Wide streets, made of stone. I tripped on ‘em once. My face broke the fall, though_ .” Two more ripped packets were added to the pile. “ _I remember living near the water. The ocean was_ …”

 

You were staring hard at his mouth, the cogs in your brain turning wildly, clicking in place the more he spoke. There was something so ridiculously familiar about that ever so slight accent. It wasn’t overwhelmingly obvious at first, but the panic in his tone earlier colored it so vividly that you hadn’t thought to do much else but laugh. But now, as he spoke, half conscious of his words, it was a little hard to hear. He hung on the ‘-ng’ sounds just a bit, a slight twang to the ‘e’...  Shit. You could swear you heard that accent somewhere before. But what was it?

 

Oh, wait. He stopped talking.

 

Dark sockets regarded you with a mild discomfort. The crease in that browbone giving way slightly as the creeping violet blush continued to deepen. The gentle puffs of breath in your face giving way to how close you were actually leaning towards him. It wasn’t too far, though. The cafe table was a bit on the small side, and you could feel his legs shift beneath the table.

 

“Ah. Is there something on my face?” Drat. He went back to his normal tone. “You are uncomfortably close and I can only assume that perhaps there is something I have missed here.”

 

“No, no. I was. Um. Your accent suddenly felt familiar. You don’t use it as heavily when you’re trying to be aware of it, though. It’s odd.”

 

Huh. This scene felt weirdly familiar. Weren’t you in this same exact position with Sans a month back? Telling puns in the diner, trading them off like a competition, you had come this close to him. Odd how their structures differed so greatly, despite being part of the same family. Where Sans’ skull had nicks and scratches here and there, and looked as if it had an overall porous surface, Gaster’s was smooth. Almost like skin. Smooth, but not as porous as bone would be. It looked more malleable as well. You briefly wondered what it would feel like, without your chilled fingers to mitigate the sensation of it, like it had earlier that day. You could feel the smoothness of it, but the cold numbed out all other sensations. How long had you sat out there before he showed up? Would he mind if you poked him right now? Oh, his eye just twitched.

“Right. Ahem. I don’t speak that way often.” he mumbled. There was a brief peek of those fangs again as he spoke. No lips, though.

 

_‘Move away, dumb ass! The poor guy is uncomfortable!’_

 

You really should get out of his space. Lean back and finish off that coffee. Finish up here and figure out what to do next. Or even head back and get some sleep. Everything was starting to feel like some kind of hazy dream with this level of sleep deprivation settling on in your bones. Right, just lean back. Sit down.

 

But his fingers were creeping up your wrist again, thumbing feather light strokes along the delicate veins showing there. Something smooth and warm touched your other arm. _Just sit back down. Finish your coffee. Leave the guy be! Don’t make this more awkward!_

 _…..._ But what if you didn’t?

 

__________________________________

 

* _You decided to experiment._

__________________________________

 

You swallow thickly, feeling your own fingers creep forward slowly and gently touching the warm fabric of his sweater. He smelled like cologne. Something warm, spicy, even. Had his shoulders always looked that broad? Gods, there was a buzzing in the back of your head, swirling all around you, rendering every thought into a strange static. You were tired, right? Sleepy, even. This moment, here, it could be excused if you backed down now. Make it seem like you had dozed off a little and… and what? Leaned forward and punched his face with your _mouth_?

 

“_____.”  fuck, your name looked good coming from his mouth with those fangs flashing in sight that way. _Say it again,_ you want to whisper. “Are you…?”

 

_Just a little one. Just a small taste. I’m tired. I want to be sure. I want to know. I want…_

 

You flick your eyes up to his briefly, and it’s all you can do not to let out a shuddering breath at the energy you feel coming from those now violet irises of his. Larger than average, locking you in place with a hunger you could _feel_ in your soul. Everything in you burned, licking fire at your skin until shaking fingers fisted in the fabric of his sweater. There was something here, something between you. You could test it. Make sure. Just this once. Initiate it yourself for once just to be sure, right?

More than anything, you want to know where you stand. This whole experience has been nothing but mixed messages and confusion that would leave you bereft of all reason and conscious thought at the end of the day. Something had to give. Something needed to be done. There were two monsters in your life looking at you with eyes you never dreamed would be directed at you. Nothing at all felt concrete when you spoke to them. In fact, a lot of those mock kisses both Sans and Gaster seemed to steal from you on the occasion felt shrouded with uncertainty. Nothing set in stone to tell you of how they truly felt. Were you a fling? Something to fill the passing hour with? No, no that couldn’t be it. Just once, you wanted to initiate this. Make it your own to give. Reciprocate and figure out where you really stand without being compromised by emotional outbursts. You wanted to know.

 

You wanted to know so badly.

 

Gaster looked so uncertain. Afraid, even, the longer you stayed in that position. Hell, you were just as afraid. Something was tugging painfully at your chest and you could swear the world was beginning to fade around the edges with every warm caress of his fingers on your skin. You kissed this monster more than once before. It shouldn’t be this nerve wracking. But every time he was this close, it felt like the first time all over again.

Your fingers shook, unclenching hesitantly and shifting up to touch his jaw. Warm and smooth to the touch, like skin. Just like you thought. Uncertainty still clung to his features, but those eyes never left yours. His face was so close now, so, so close. The world was burning around you, everything becoming a high pitched hum. Despite this, you couldn’t seem to pull yourself forward anymore. Something was stuck; waiting. A latch waiting to be lifted and opened. You dig your nails into his skin lightly, pulling a small hitch of breath from his chest.

 

_Close. So close._

 

Purple eyelights fizzle out of focus briefly. A crackle, a flash. Something fizzling in the air between you.

 

_Almost... Please. My name. Say it._

 

He’s barely an inch from you.

 

“_____.”

 

You capture his mouth in yours, shuddering at the shock of pleasure rocketing through your limbs at the contact. He was warm, so warm. The gentle caress of his lips slowly evolving into something much hungrier. Fingers were tangling in your hair, gently pulling at the roots. _Closer. Please, closer._ A hot breath against your lips, and something deliciously slick dancing along your lips. You open your mouth with a low moan, pulling desperately at the collar of his sweater.

 

It felt like the world itself was swaying, and he was the only solid thing you could ever hope to hold on to. You wanted him closer, pressed more firmly against you. But the table was an obstruction you couldn’t forgive, it’s hard edge digging into your abdomen.

You didn’t even care that you were deliberately making out with a monster in broad daylight, quite possibly in front of some very confused baristas or flustered passersby who just so happened to look through the window. All you knew was that you needed this; Him.

This kiss was unlike any other you had ever experienced. He was the sky, the air, the rain. Breathing life into your still lungs after so many years of loneliness. After so many goddamn years of regret; of hatred. His hands were caressing your face and in your hair, but even then it wasn’t enough. You wanted him, _needed_ him closer. _Closer._

 

When you finally pull back for air, a small string of saliva clinging to your tongues, Gaster is practically vibrating with need. There was a fire settling low in your stomach, and _fuck_ were you so ready to rip the collar of your shirt to the side and downright _demand_ he mark you then and there. But this wasn’t the time nor the place for that. You bring your hands back down to the cool surface of the table and clear your throat.

 

_‘Calm yourself now, _____.’_

 

“S-sorry. I,” you swallow, “I didn’t really think about what I was doing there.” Shit, it was sweltering in here!

 

Gaster sits there, stunned and trembling slightly. He shakes his head after a few precious moments and stands abruptly. The force of which knocks his mug clean off the table and clattering to the tiled floor. You don’t get a chance to see if anyone saw what just transpired between the two of you, because he pulls you up from your seat and drags you out of the cafe. The tinny sound of the bell above the entrance followed you out, your feet stumbling over the concrete as you tried to keep up.

 

“Hwha- whoa! S-slow down, doc! Wait a damn second!” you squeak out without much force. “Where the hell are we going?”

 

People are now plodding along the sidewalks, cars whizzing by at a more constant pace. The city was finally waking up. Yet you still felt like you were tripping through a dream. His fingers were so warm against yours. He was so goddamn tall, too. The view of his back as you quickly walked behind him felt comforting in some odd way. You wanted to trust him, really you did. You clench your eyes and dig your heels into the ground, yanking his hand back.

 

“Oi! Gaster!” he jumps, startled, but stops without much of a fuss. When he finally does turn to look at you, (albeit a little slowly), he has a bright violet flush and looks more than a little self-conscious. “Where are we off to in such a hurry? The car is back there.” you eye his figure. “And your jacket.”

 

If his face could turn anymore purple, he’d probably be mistaken for a walking blacklight. Poor guy. He smacks a hand to his face with a groan. You can’t help it, you burst out laughing. All that nervous tension in your gut over your incredibly impulsive act uncoiling from your gut. It was an incredibly pleasant surprise when you hear the deep sounds of a chuckle coming from him, before exploding into a hearty laugh. He looked good like this, you decided. Eyes creased with laughter, hand over his mouth, fingers still clinging to your hand, bathed in early morning sunlight. It was all you could do not to pull the doc into a hug right then and there.

 

“I completely neglected to tell you where I intended to take you as well.” he said, still chuckling. “I thought to myself, it would be a surprise. But now, looking back at it, that did seem rather sketchy. I apologize.” He squeezed your hand. “I think you might have successfully frazzled me there.”

 

“S’okay, doc. Here, I’ll tell you what. You can keep it a secret, so it stays a surprise. But we go get your coat first, and then we get the car.” You reach over and punch him in the stomach lightly. “No need to be an eager beaver, yeah? C’mon, you nerd. Let’s go retrieve your shit.”

 

It was an awkward start to a new day and you still felt like this all just might be a dream. There was no end to the level of awkwardness you felt you could pump out in a single morning. But this? This was okay. This kind of awkward, when shared with someone whose company you didn’t really mind all that much, wasn’t so bad. You look up at him with a smile, hand still in his, and make your way back to the cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I'd have something motivating to say, but I think I'm just dead on my feet these days.
> 
> Questions?  
> Comments?  
> Concerns?  
> Suggestions?
> 
> Please, for the love of god, leave a cup of coffee outside on the deck with a few band-aids to summon me to your location today!
> 
>  
> 
> (Oh, and for those of you wondering? Gaster and the skelebros all lived in an area in Spain before the war. It isn't a heavy accent. Just a slight one.  
> Take what you will from that, and let your imaginations run wild.) 
> 
> *-audible wink-*


	16. (Update and Soul Evaluation Sheet!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an update on why I've been in a hole for the past month! (waves). Heya, peeps!

Since I’m still having to go through the moving process along with financial issues and haven’t found time to work on properly editing and formatting the chapter i had planned literally forever ago, I’ll let you guys have this little chart here, that describes the soul value system used by HMRD. It has umbrella terms for certain souls in the designated areas, so while not ALL souls are in the database are currently listed, the main ones here are used as the basic guidelines to better separate, organize, and place the values of the human souls that come through the clinic lines on a day to day basis.

 

I thought I could give you guys this to play with, so you can have fun determining your own soul value type in the process! (Remember again that a lot of soul values are not listed, because these are the basic umbrella terms for the core factoring ones. So if you have an idea for what sub-type soul you could be, like Valor or Empathy or something, don’t sweat it. In the clinic, it’s treated as a sort of ‘child value’ to the main soul values. Like how Tenacity would be ‘child value’ to determination and stuff. Just go ham with it and remember to have fun.)

 

And before any of you point or niggle at me about what this is, yes, it is a template from the enneagram types. (but it is in no way accurate because i purposely messed it the hell up so it’d be more fun to play with. Fantasy stuff. Made up world, you know how it goes.) I was using it to determine soul types because it was a much more fun and accurate process while I was building the world. I inevitably used this as a way to determine the protag’s soul value type and number. Now, be aware that this might seem a little complicated at first, but once you get the snag of it, it ain’t so bad, and can actually be pretty fun!

 

I have it as canon that the human enneagram systems worked so well in tandem with how the monsters determined soul values, that they sort of just merged the two ideas together to create a basic evaluation format that worked for everyone. Now again, this has been picked apart and hashed to bits. So of course it doesn’t follow the precise enneagram. It’s a fantasy soul value version that Sans hates, Gaster screams at, and you cry on. 

 

Without further ado, here is the HMRD approved Soul Value reference for sorting and determining placement in the job market!

  
  


* * *

**Hedgeworth Clinic Official S.E Employee Handbook**

 

Each human soul falls under 9 categories and each soul value is determined by the category if falls under and where it branches or connects to others. There are many subcategories that a soul might fall under, many of which might be more complicated in nature.Within these 9 categories, there 3 subcategories each that allow you to trace the core driving factor and what influences the souls attributed to it. Any and all jobs associated with the types will be covered in a separate handbook. 

 

The nine categories are as follows:

 

 

  1. **Reformers**  
  

  2. **Helpers**  
  

  3. **Achievers**  
  

  4. **Individualists**  
  

  5. **Investigators**  
  

  6. **Loyalists**  
  

  7. **Enthusiasts**  
  

  8. **Challengers  
  
**
  9. **Peacemakers**



****

 

 

For each category, there is a different set of positives and negatives attributed to better help recognize the correlating number:

  
  


**_1_ **

**_Reformers_ **

  * Principled, Purposeful


  * Perfectionist, overly self-controlled



 

**_2_ **

**_Helpers_ **

  * Generous, Demonstrative


  * People pleasing, Possessive



 

**_3_ **

**_Achievers_ **

  * Adaptable, Excelling


  * Over-exertive, Image conscious



 

**_4_ **

**_Individualists_ **

  * Expressive, Dramatic


  * Self-absorbed, Temperamental



 

**_5_ **

**_Investigators_ **

  * Perceptive, Innovative


  * Secretive, Isolated



 

**_6_ **

**_Loyalists_ **

  * Engaging, Responsible


  * Anxious, Suspicious



 

**_7_ **

**_Enthusiasts_ **

  * Spontaneous, Versatile


  * Acquisitive, scattered



 

**_8_ **

**_Challengers_ **

  * Self-confident, Decisive


  * Willful, Confrontational



 

**_9_ **

**_Peacemakers_ **

  * Receptive, Reassuring


  * Complacent, Resigned



  
  


These are basic descriptions, but any veteran doctors on site can lend a more critical eye if you are looking for a more in depth consultation. For each of the nine, the  _ main  _ overarching soul values have been assigned. Meaning that every soul type can be traced back to any one of the nine main soul types. The chart is as follows:

  
  


**Reformers ________________________________________________Justice --------------- (Yellow)**

 

**Helpers_______________________________________________Integrity --------------  (Dark Blue)**

 

**Achievers____________________________________________Perseverance -------------- (Purple)**

 

**Individualists____________________________________________Sincerity ------------------(Pink)**

 

**Investigators________________________________________Patience ----------------- (Light Blue)**

 

**Loyalists_______________________________________________Loyalty ------------------- (Violet)**

 

**Enthusiasts_______________________________________________Determination -------------(Red)**

**  
** **  
** **Challengers______________________________________________Bravery -----------------(Orange)**

 

**Peacemakers_______________________________________________Kindness -------------- (Green)**

  
  


The nine categories are then broken down even further into three seperate sub-categories that determine the  _ core negative driving factor _ of the soul. Meaning that each soul value type has a  _ reason  _ for acting the way they do, (why someone is kind, or why someone values justice, etc.), and that it comes from a hidden negative factor that is traceable to one of three emotional instincts. Please be reminded that this process often takes the better part of your time with the client, and that this part will require a more delicate hand in the one-on-one portion of the evaluation, but can also be done by performing a careful review of client history and background.

 

These sub-categories are called “Centers”, and are used to determine the inevitable weaknesses that may present themselves later on in the future after they are placed. Each number is assigned to a specific center, and are broken up into groups of threes within the three centers. They are as follows:

 

_____________________________________________________________

**Instinctive Center:**

 

  * Associated with the “ **Anger/Rage** ” core 
  * Numbers 9,8,1 ( ** _Kindness, Bravery, Justice_** )  
  




Descriptions:

  1. Denies anger/Pretends not to feel it
  2. ****Acts out anger in a physical way
  3. Suppresses anger in attempt to control



__________________________________________________________  
  


**Feeling Center:**

 

  * Associated with the “ **Shame** ” core
  * Numbers 2,3,4 ( ** _Integrity, Perseverance, Sincerity_** )  
  




Descriptions:

  1. Represses shame by helping others
  2. Denies shame/Uses success for validation
  3. Controls shame via self-validation



_________________________________________________________

**Thinking Center:**

 

  * Associated with the “ **Fear** ” core
  * Numbers 5,6,7 ( ** _Patience, Loyalty, Determination_** )



 

Descriptions:

  1. Withdraws from fear to hide it
  2. Defies fear by attempting to face it
  3. Avoids fear by seeking external stimulation



_________________________________________________________  
  


Once you have determined the exact number and center associated with the soul, you should attempt to find any discrepancies in it’s structure, to better determine its precise value and where it would work best in the community.  Look for any and all behaviours or dispositions or coloring of the soul itself that would reveal the precise nature and name needed for the final result. During this last stage, a certified scientist or doctor must be supervising. Under no circumstances is any staff member to sign off on any legal paperwork without the consent or approval of a certified supervisor. Doing so will cause immediate termination of your contract and a temporary suspension of your work license.

 

If you are unsure how to proceed, or are confused by the process as a whole, please refer to the example below to use as a template for future evaluation:

  
  


Client Name: “_____”   
Client Age: XX

 

Soul Color:   _Maroon_   
Soul Shade:    **dim** /bright

Suspected #:  **7**   
Correlating Center:  _ Thinking  _ core negative facto r:  _ Fear _

 

Disposition:  _ Easily distracted, Stubborn, Persistent _   
  


Notes/Observations:  _ Client shows signs of anger issues.Predisposed to anxiety;  _

_                                  exhibits clear distrust of  strangers. Generally _

_ Obedient. Clearly creative. Clever. Personable. _

 

Discrepancies?:   **_Y_ ** /N 

(If Y, give reason):  _  Client soul color is that of Perseverance and Determination mixed _

_                               but cannot have two soul #’s. Most educated guess would be a  _

_                               child value of Determination, sitting at a number 7 with a possible wing. _

_                               Attributes from both soul values are present, but in an unhealthy _

_                               format. Rare case of bi-color mixing. Further evaluation is needed. _

 

Final Evaluation #: 7

 

Final Main Soul Influence:  _ Determination  _  Name of Soul Value:  _ Tenacity _

 

Designated Job/Career:  _ Undetermined _

Soul Value Work License #:  _ N/A _

  
  


Supervisor Signature:_______x_______

Client Signature: _______x_______

Date: _____x_____

  
  
  


**_HMRD: HEDGEWORTH CLINIC_ **

  
  


* * *

 

Alright guys, well there you have it. Again, it can get complicated and there’s probably a lot you don’t understand. But play around with it a bit and get a lot of fun out of this carbon mix match of a mess of fantasy fun and see where your soul shines! Or not. You could make up a soul value like taco sauce and I’m pretty damn sure you can fit it in there somewhere. It’s just the right amount of ‘wtf’ and ‘how about nah’ to properly satiate your needs for the time being. 

 

I already have the next chapter written up, but didn’t have the time to review it or edit it. And I’m starting to think having an extra hand in making this would be a lot easier than doing it all myself. Maybe i need an editor? Is that what they’re called??

Anyway, I hope you have fun with this and get out there and make up some dope af soul values for yourselves. 

 

Here’s a little template for you, as well. For funsies. 

Stay safe, peeps.

 

Xxx

**_Author-san_ **

  
P.S:  
  


Let me know if you guys want a lil mini thing where the Doc and Sans evaluate you personally. Once we settle down in the new place, I'm totally up to do a couple

of those just for fun. Because, hey! Who doesn't like a salty doc and a lazy assistant evaluating your soul, amiright? Just lemme know, peeps. Shoot me a message

On my tumblr, (which I think I stuck on one of these chapters) to give me some feedback! Will be back to your regularly scheduled shenanigans shortly!

Until then: See you soon!

* * *

  
  
  


Client Name: __________________  
_   
Client Age:  _ ___________________ _

 

Soul Color: ________________ _    
  
Soul Shade:   dim/bright

Suspected #: ___________  
_  
Correlating Center: ___________          Core negative factor: _____________

 

Disposition: ______________________________________________   
  


Notes/Observations: ____________________________________________________

                                ____________________________________________________

                                ____________________________________________________

 

Discrepancies?:  Y/N 

(If Y, give reason): ______________________________________

                              ______________________________________

                              ______________________________________

  
  


Final Evaluation #: _______

 

Final Soul Value: _______________   Name of Soul Value: ______________

 

Designated Job/Career: ___________________________

Soul Value Work License #: _________________________

  
  


Supervisor Signature: ________________

Client Signature: ________________

Date: _ ___________

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions?  
> Comments?  
> Concerns?  
> Suggestions?
> 
> Call 8677-307-4625937 while screaming an ancient hymn into the receiver of your cellphone on a new moon night outside on the front lawn, being sure to jump in circles on only your right foot to summon me to your front step today!!!


	17. Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a hundred years, I know. But! I have a reasonable explanation.
> 
> ...
> 
> Life happened and I lost hope and interest in this story for a while. But I saw I was still getting views and kudos. And I didn't want to let anyone down. So I thought, "No, I'll finish this."   
> Not perfect, but finished, right? I'd rather see this through to the end. Time to get this baby back up and running.

How long had it been again? Hours? From the rut that his younger brother was making in the living room carpet, it could have been days for all anyone knew. Poor guy hadn’t stopped pacing since barging into the guest room to wake him up after waking up to find his bed-mate missing. Paps had been nearly inconsolable, waving his arms and knocking over things left and right, wringing his hands together in obvious distress. 

 

“I CLOSED MY EYES TO REST FOR ONLY A MOMENT, SANS! I P-PROMISE!” he stuttered. “WHEN I GOT UP TO GET A GLASS OF WATER, THEY WERE JUST GONE! I KNOW UNDYNE AND ALPHYS SAID TO KEEP AN EYE ON THEM BUT-!”

 

It took the better part of twenty minutes to assuage his worries long enough to usher him back to the still dark living room. The blankets tossed askew from Papyrus’ frantic searching, no doubt. Something in him empathized with his little brother, though. Seeing the empty room, and one absent Gaster set his already fraying nerves further on end, if that was at all possible. It wasn’t enough just to tell the guy to stay away from the human. It was like he needed to be straight locked up with how little control he had over himself around them. Jesus hell, what would it take to get it through to him that a jump started soul-bond was a recipe for disaster? Would it take his very soul to come undone if the human were to reject him?    
Sans shuddered, despite himself. The thought was a dark one. Gaster had only just come back from the void. No telling what would happen to that ancient bag of bones if the human rejected the courtship and sent the doc to self destruct.Monsters in mid-courtship weren’t to be trifled with, but one going through the recourse of rejection? Sans felt his stomach roil with anxiety at the though. But with the sudden lack of presence and immediate concern this situation brought about, he guessed (with a mild bitterness), that it must be going ‘well’ for the two of them.

The once dark halls and livingroom were alight with frantic activity and items strewn about. Luckily, Pap’s ranting and worried sobbing did nothing to wake the two comatose logs in the room down the hall. Hell would find its way to earth if Undyne found out Doc took the human, and he would certainly get a rare earful from the usually quiet Alphys as well. But,If he played his cards right, he could bring them both in before everyone woke up and return everything back to the way it was. Maybe give Gas an earful himself. The urge was certainly there to do so. 

 

He looked up from his slumped spot on the couch, running a hand wearily along the worn threads on the cuff of his hoodie. Figuring out a way of calming down Papyrus was a first and foremost kind of thing. Yet  the tug of sleep was felt deep within his sockets as his eyes traced the soft steps of his brother’s feet across the carpet.Back and forth. Back and forth. Hypnotic, almost. 

He stifled a yawn. It was too late for this. For any of this. There were still stars in the sky and still things to do when morning came. Stars and galaxies above, help him, he was so tired. This couldn’t keep going on the way it did. Too many tests, too many humans, too many mistakes and regrets. All piling up faster than anyone alive could keep up with. Paperwork sitting on a desk long forgotten in a dark lab, with decisions on an unseen checklist flitting around in a darker part of that same lab. So much to do… so, so much to do. And he was exhausted. Was any of this research even worth it? Was that human worth this? 

 

Dark sockets stared out at the nothingness. His mind slowly fading, the couch suddenly feeling a little warmer than it did a few minutes before. Everything hovering, pleasantly, a coziness spreading a lull through his system. So tired. So very, very tired… Just a little bit of rest couldn’t hurt-

 

“BROTHER! HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY SLEEP AT A TIME LIKE THIS!!” Papyrus boomed, jolting him from the light doze.

“Mm’up paps. I’m up.” he sighed. The look he received told him that Pap’s belief in that statement was dubious at best. Sans groaned. “Alright. Alright. I’ll go look for them. You stay here. Watch over the place. See if they come back before i do.”

 

“W-WAIT, YOU’RE LEAVING?? BUT WHAT IF UNDYNE-”

 

“Trust me, bro. They won’t be up before their alarm goes off. Those two sleep like the dead once they’re out. Look, you have your phone on you, and if i find them, i’ll shoot you a text. Take a shortcut back here before anyone wakes up, boom. We’re all good.”

 

‘Yeah nice thinkin’ sansy boy. Only you wouldn’t know the first place to look for those two sneaky shits. It’s the dead of the night and you’d have a better chance of counting dust in a building full of sneezing people than finding them before dawn.’

 

A long and weary silence fell between the two of them, Papyrus fidgeting in place, tugging at his pajamas and casting a worried glance out the dark window. He could understand the anxiety. Feel it beating within his own ribcage in a steady thrum. But now was not the time to second guess or spend time speculating. If he didn’t move now, he would be swayed by the need to sleep and his silently smoldering jealousy telling him this shit doesn’t matter. Because why would it? They chose HIM, so why-

Sans shook his head and got to his feet. 

‘No time for any of that, now.’

 

Alright. You stake this place out and try to keep them in the apartment if they do come back. Shoot me a text. Let me know. And if i find them before you do, i’ll do the same. Sound like a good enough plan?”

 

“WELL… I… SUPPOSE THAT IS REALLY THE MOST WE CAN DO AT SUCH A LATE HOUR. ALRIGHT. THIS PLAN OF ATTACK WILL HAVE TO DO!” Papyrus nodded. “BE CAREFUL OUT THERE!”

 

“Always am bro.” sans mumbled, dragging his tired feet over to the doorway. “Always am.”

 

* * *

 

 

Buzzing streetlights, the occasional cricket. The sound of his chucks crunching on gravel and the cold promise of a chilly tomorrow on the steady breeze.Distant car alarms, police sirens, someone shouting. A dog barking, present but unseen. It was always the same in this place, wasn’t it? This whole city seemed like an entirely different breed of life after dark, though. Mumbled chatter and muted sounds of a piano playing blues gave it a different kind of hue in atmosphere than the one Sans had reluctantly removed himself from. 

 

On most days, this town would be a jackhammer to the skull. A constant din that would send one through a wall with insanity after a while. Charming in its own right, sure. But still a mess of a place nonetheless. How in the heck _____ could live here was beyond him. Though they seemed to thrive well enough…

 

He cast his tired, empty sockets to the hazy sky, neon lights playing on the harsh shadows and shop-fronts of long closed storefronts and dark apartment windows. Somehow, looking out there, at those scarce few lights in the night sky made him feel a lot less alone in the universe. A saving grace of gas and void. One he certainly cherished well into adulthood.    
He remembered how they looked on the rooftop, where _____ sat. how large and endless the earth had seemed in those moments where that quiet, pained voice drifted over sleeping homes and starry lights. Remembered how their face looked, the scent of strawberry bubbles clear in the crisp night air. With those memories, came the familiar jolt in his chest, the pain racing through his bones and pooling in his skull. 

 

“Damn it… get it together.” Sans whispered harshly to himself, ripping his eyes from the sky to glare pointedly down at his feet. “Gotta find them.”

 

Willing his body into sluggish movement, he carried on his search down the streets. Facts. He needed to look at the facts. Paps said he heard someone leave, but assumed it might have been Alphys or maybe even Undyne going out to the car or basement for something. Papyrus wasn’t always so easy to wake up, since he slept like the literal dead and could only ever blearily recall events that happened an hour after his initial wake-up. Couldn’t fault him there. Compared to the rest of the underground community, he was still kind of a babybones. ‘Course no one else would know that. Only he knew Pap’s true age. 

 

But then Papyrus said he woke up maybe an hour after to an empty bed and thought that his new friend just needed to use the bathroom. Again, not his fault. But how many hours ago was that? What routes were intuitive ones or less likely ones? Gas certainly brought his car, but even he wouldn’t think to go out far with the events that occurred this past week and some change. 

.

It was ten minutes past five in the morning. Sans had already taken three or four ‘shortcuts’ around the downtown area, draining his stamina to the point of doubling over in the alley next to a bar and dry heaving, with no new leads to show for it. A solid, bony hand connected hard with the brick of the wall he leaned on. Frustration clouding any and all attempts at logic.

 

‘You assholes better show up soon. I need sleep, damn it.’ came his seething thoughts. ‘Why am i always the one on babysitting duty for those two? Why can’t we just, separate them? Lock one up in a room. I don’t care which. Just so long as i can get a nap or two in and some work done. Maybe even take a mini vacation instead of wasting all my goddamn efforts on pulling those two leeches off one another.’

 

Why me?’

 

An image of their bodies, bathed in the setting glow of light outside the clinic windows flew to the forefront of his mind and he stumbled. The memory sending a fresh wave of jealousy. Hatred. Pain. through his sternum. Raging like a wild beast in his soul as he willed it vehemently from his thoughts. Thinking like that was a one-way ticket to true disaster. Jump-started soul-bond or not, Gaster was his brother. He loved him. Hell, he had only JUST gotten him back after the barrier broke and…

 

‘Why is it always only me?’

And…

 

‘And i got second place chump next to that jerk. To hell with that jacked-up faux soul bond courtship, this hurts. They chose him. HIM! What, were his jokes funnier? Was it because he was taller? More broodish? Smarter? What the heck did that stalking pile of bones and dust even have to offer?’

 

No! 

 

Stop it.

 

This wasn’t going to help. Wasn’t going to find either of them before sunrise or help him out in any way in the long run. None of this childish, teenage angst garbage was going to solve any of the current problems at hand. He had to find his brother, and then take you back home. He could give Gaster an earful later. But right now he… he….

 

The world around him blurred at the edges, pain dull in his chest as light pulsed along the dirty asphalt and weather-worn trash cans with pale blue light. Something warm and prickly trickled down the smooth bone of his face, dripping down to hit the canvas of his chucks. He lost sight of the city. The lights. The Alley. Himself…. them…

 

Images of a vivid gestures and lopsided smiles. Of coffee and jokes. Of pain and comfort. A hug so tight it filled him with a sense of belonging. Everything was lost. Out of sight. Everything bathed in a blue glow of light that signified his creeping realization. 

They didn’t choose him. 

He was rejected. 

Sans slid down the wall and rested his head on his knees, not bothering to fight the sleep threatening to overtake him. Using what last little bit of energy his body could muster, he shuffled sideways and teleported back into the spare room at Undyne’s place, flopping down onto the still messy bed. The softness of the sheets contrasted so sharply with the discomfort in his soul. Dappling sunlight rising steadily over the horizon crept in through the open windows. 

But Sans just pulled the blankets over himself and curled in the dark under them. 

 

‘Let them come when they want to. Let them break the goddamn rules and make a mess of everything. Who cares, right? Who cares. We just need to get them a license and then they’ll just leave forever. Problem solves. Who cares.’

 

He did, though. He very much did.Not that admitting such a thing would help. Even the darkness could not hide the painful pulsing of light that betrayed his truest feelings. The pain of being left out, of feeling all alone after all of this. Wasn’t he important, too? Didn’t he matter in their life, too? Where was his place in all of this,and why didn’t he matter? It wasn’t fair. He mattered too. 

He mattered…

 

Dejected, jaded, and hopelessly jealous and hurt, Sans fell into a heavy slumber. Curled tightly under the covers, the world awoke all around him. Bringing with it, the sounds of frantic but sleepy voices questioning a newly flustered and anxious Papyrus. Crashing pans, thudding cabinets, hushed but harsh whispers outside his door. All fading into a meaningless backdrop on a soul too weary to spend another second awake or aware. 

Another day of this madness avoided only in sleep. 

A day he knew he would never be ready to face. No matter how long he had waited for its promise of freedom underground.

 

___________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that a lot of chapters will be under construction from here on out!!
> 
> I'll be posting regularly again, if my job schedule allows. 
> 
> And hey... thanks again for reading. Thanks for getting me this far, and reading for this long. The fact that you still comment or come pop by tumblr and give me that support and kindness just... means the absolute goddamn world to me. 
> 
> Your support gave me the courage and drive to sit down and write again, even if it is just a short little chapter. I'll keep going, even if it means forcing myself to be disciplined enough to try. I'll do this for myself, as well as for all of you out there who have taken the time to stop by and read this. 
> 
> May you all find warmth in the coming holiday spirits.   
> Thank you again. <3


End file.
